


The Cartesian Conundrum

by Canttouchthis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dreams vs. Reality, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Mystery, Not Canon Compliant, Philosophy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:09:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27387721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canttouchthis/pseuds/Canttouchthis
Summary: Theo Nott is dead - or is he missing? When Hermione starts experiencing vivid dreams of living as an American Muggle, she finds herself reluctantly allied with none other than Draco Malfoy.---------------Malfoy looked thoughtful, “I’ve been having these - odd dreams.”“You’re not - perchance - an American Muggle asshole in them who drives a Porsche?” Hermione asked.“No,” he scoffed, “I’m an epic American Muggle who drives a Porsche.”
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 29
Kudos: 122





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Much praise and thanks to my Beta reader on this - vixii.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
> 
> Quick note: The story is (purposefully) somewhat disorienting at first. Page breaks mark when the scene moves from America to Scotland (and vice versa).

“What’s going on?” Hermione joined the growing crowd forming outside the high school, standing on her toes and bobbing her head to see what the commotion was about.

“You haven’t heard?” Lavender Brown turned to face her with wide eyes. The girl leaned towards Hermione conspiratorially, “Theo Nott went missing.”

“Theo Nott?” Hermione frowned, trying to place the familiar name.

“He’s the quiet handsome one,” Lavender’s eyebrows rose and fell dramatically, “you know, best friends with Draco Malfoy.”

Hermione  _ did _ know who she was talking about now. She could see Draco Malfoy's signature too-blonde hair (she suspected he dyed it) at the front of the crowd. Unlike Theo Nott,  _ everyone _ knew Draco Malfoy - quarterback of the football team, teenage heart throb and to Hermione’s agony in all of her AP classes. 

“But why won’t they let us in the school?” Hermione asked, looking around curiously.

“Hmm.” Lavender ignored her, saddling up to Pavarti Patil and likely gossiping about something inane.

They were 20 minutes late for first period when the security guards finally let them into the building. Hermione found herself watching Draco Malfoy out of the corner of her eye, devoid of his usual pompous persona and instead sitting silent and withdrawn. She had to admit, objectively speaking, he  _ was _ quite attractive with his coiffed hair, grey eyes and sharp features. Of course, in her limited interactions with the boy, he was a vain bully, thus in her mind negating any positive qualities.

The seat behind him, which Hermione now realized was where the silent Theo Nott typically dwelled in AP History, remained conspicuously empty. Her impression of Theo was silent and polite - perhaps the complete opposite of Draco Malfoy, causing her to question how the two were best friends.

Draco turned to her then, “What’s your problem Granger?”

Hermione reddened only slightly at being caught staring before biting back, “Nothing Malfoy. Back off.”

Mr. Binns entered the classroom, appearing completely oblivious to the morning’s drama as he instructed the class to silently read their textbook on the rise and fall of the Ottoman Empire.  She rolled her eyes and watched Binns inevitably doze off while the rest of the students, completely ignoring his directive, murmured to one another excitedly.

“Can you all shut up?” Malfoy reprimanded. Hermione was caught off guard - typically he was all for antics and shenanigans when their instructor left them to their own devices so to speak. But in this instance, he seemed  _ genuinely _ upset. She watched the boy out of the corner of her eye, wondering if perhaps somewhere deep beneath the bluster lay a teeny tiny heart. She doubted it though.

* * *

“Harry - what’s going on?” Hermione scooped some porridge into her bowl, taking in the rather subdued atmosphere in the Great Hall that morning.

“I’m not sure.” Harry frowned and appeared to be searching the Slytherin table for something.

“Have you guys heard?” Ron sat down in front of them, blocking Harry’s view of the Slytherins. He immediately started stuffing his face with a muffin.

“What?” Harry asked.

Ron swallowed, “It’s Theo Nott - he’s dead!”

“What?” Hermione gasped. The last vestiges of a fading dream lingered in the back of her mind, something familiar. But before she could quite grasp it, the thought was gone.

Ron nodded excitedly, “They found him in his room this morning! Looks like he was cursed.”

“I’ve gotta go.” Harry got up abruptly, grabbing his bag and nearly running out of the hall before either of his friends could protest.

“What’s up with him?” Ron asked, placing some bacon and sausage on his plate.

“Who knows?” Hermione shrugged.

Dumbledore cancelled classes that day and overall the atmosphere in the castle was quite subdued. Hermione, unable to quell her curiosity, found herself hovering outside of the dungeons, safely hidden under Harry’s invisibility cloak. Harry himself had been holed up in his room all morning - his bed curtains drawn and refusing company.

She listened to the various and often ridiculous theories the Slytherins seemed to have concocted:

“I heard Tracey Davis cursed him for cheating on her.” One 4th year suggested.

“I heard it has something to do with his father - you  _ know _ he’s a follower of you-know-who.” A 5th year Hermione believed was called Angus whispered to a friend.

“Shut up.” Hermione nearly jumped as she saw Draco work his way into the common room. “You people don’t know anything.” Hermione frowned, the familiarity of it scratching at her brain.

* * *

It had been two days since Theo Nott had gone missing and the general consensus was that something  _ bad _ had happened. Some of the kids seemed to think he had run away but Hermione didn’t think so - from her limited exposure to Theo Nott, he seemed studious and responsible. His locker had become some sort of makeshift living ‘shrine’ for lack of a better word. Cards and flowers poured onto the floor as well wishers whispered and theorized.

“You know his dad is a mobster. I bet he was taken hostage.” Her friend Ron Weasley suggested at lunch that day.

“Really Ron?” Hermione asked, torn between curiosity and the reflex to admonish her friend for gossiping.

“Oh yeah. He works for Old Man Riddle. I can’t imagine it’s a coincidence he went missing.” Ron shrugged and started eating his sandwich.

Hermione looked around the lunchroom. Harry hadn’t been to school in 3 days - claiming to be ‘sick’ which was completely  _ unlike _ her best friend. She saw Draco Malfoy go and sit down -  _ next to Luna Lovegood? _ “What’s he doing?” Hermione nodded towards Malfoy.

“Weird.” Ron stared at the pair blatantly. Luna was an oddball alright - she was a sophomore and typically kept to herself, mumbling strange things. She was a decent looking girl, though her rather - eclectic - taste in jewelry (i.e. radish earrings and childish candy bracelets) typically kept a 5 ft radius between her and any boys. Alternatively Malfoy was ordinarily surrounded by Vince and Greg, or as Hermione and Ron called them Dumb and Dumber, with Pansy Parkinson or whatever bimbo he was dating that week simpering after him. So to see  _ him _ sitting with  _ Luna Lovegood _ …

They saw they weren’t the only ones whispering about the odd sighting. Pansy walked up to Malfoy and made some comment to Lovegood, presumably something offensive. Luna appeared blissfully ignorant of the attention she was receiving, simply smiling at Pansy and saying _something_ to Malfoy. The star football player stormed off, ignoring Pansy’s dramatic cooing and the curious coeds around the cafeteria. 

“Well that was different.” Hermione commented as she watched Malfoy slam the cafeteria doors shut in his wake, creating an unusual silence that quickly turned into excited whispering. Luna continued to look oblivious, smiling down at her notebook and taking small bites of her salad. As the bell rang and the lunchroom cleared, Hermione watched as Lovegood bounced past them, noticing a paper fall from her notebook as she passed. 

Hermione grabbed the paper and was about to chase Luna to return it when she stopped in her tracks. This wasn’t just some school work - this was a  _ love note _ :

_ I wish we could be together - really together. I love you - never forget that. _

_ -Theo _

It looked like Theo Nott and Luna Lovegood were secretly involved - and judging by how he behaved at lunch, Draco Malfoy knew  _ something _ about it.

* * *

“Are you stalking me?” Malfoy sneered as Hermione walked into the Hogwarts library.

She frowned, “This is the library.”

“Yes,” he drawled, gingerly approaching her, “but I've noticed you’ve become something of a shadow. Getting tired of being a good girl, are you Granger?” 

Hermione blinked and inadvertently blushed, “Not quite Malfoy. Try not to be  _ too _ disappointed - I’m just doing a bit of studying. You might try it now and again.”

The fact of the matter was, she  _ had _ been stalking him. Ever since she found out about Luna and Theo’s secret relationship, she had been performing her own investigation into the death of Theo Nott. So far, she had limited information: she knew Theo and Luna had some sort of secret affair, that his father was a notorious death eater, and that the boy had apparently been cursed.

She couldn’t imagine that Theo’s father, or anyone for that matter, would feel the need to  _ kill him _ over a school-aged relationship. But then, why was Malfoy staring daggers at Luna? He seemed to be upset with her over  _ something _ and Hermione suspected it had to do with Theo Nott’s untimely demise.

“I know what you're doing.” Malfoy stalked to where she was sitting. She tried to ignore him but could  _ feel _ his patronizing presence inches from her.

“What do you want Malfoy?” She asked without looking up, feigning interest in an arithmancy problem.

Surprising her, he sat down, elbows on the table and leaning in to whisper, “You’re investigating Theo’s murder.”

She grunted noncommittally, eyes narrowed at the problem in front of her.

“What do you know?” His voice was even and Hermione froze.

“What?”

“You’re the swottiest person in this school,” he drawled, “you and tweedle dee and tweedle dum can never mind your own business. Of course you're all over this.”

“Whatever Malfoy.” She blew some hair out of her face and returned her quill to her notebook as she attempted to refocus on her work.

“Listen up Granger.” He pushed the papers out from under her, earning him a glare, “I know you see Theo’s death as some sort of fun mystery that you can solve but he is -  _ was -  _ my best friend. If you know anything...” He trailed off.

Granger frowned for a moment, slightly taken aback. Malfoy’s tone continued to be grating and patronizing but she suddenly found herself feeling - sympathy perhaps? And a pang of familiarity she couldn’t quite grasp. It didn’t sit well and she felt instinctively nauseous. “I’m sure I don’t know more than you.”

“Try me.” He deadpanned.

Hermione huffed, looking around to confirm no one was watching, “All I know is there was something going on between Theo and Luna.”

“Do you know what exactly?” He asked, leaning in closer.

Hermione reflexively scooted her chair back and handed him the note. “I assumed they were together.”

He frowned at the note, “This doesn’t make sense.”

She snorted, “Really? Why? Because she’s  _ not _ some sort of swooning Slytherin princess?” Hermione wasn’t blind - the Slytherins typically kept to their own, regardless of the - incestuous implications of such inter-breeding.

Malfoy glared at her, “Theo would  _ never _ date Loony Lovegood.”

Hermione simply rolled her eyes, “Whatever Malfoy.” She was placing her books back in her bag when she felt Malfoy’s hand on her arm. The action, completely un-Malfoy like, caused her to freeze. “What?”

“Look,” he removed his hand, staring at it for a minute as if he were contemplating cutting it off before he let it fall to his side, “I just - I  _ need _ to know what happened.”

“Well, then maybe you need to start accepting you didn’t know  _ everything _ about Theo Nott.”

“Alright.” The word was friendly enough but his tone was hostile. “Where do we start?”

Hermione blinked, mentally replaying the conversation and trying to identify where exactly she  _ agreed _ to form a ‘we’ or help him in any way.

“I’m not helping you.” She scoffed.

“Well you’re obviously not going to let this go. And neither will I. It makes sense to pool resources.” Malfoy pointed out.

“Of course. Were you pretty much  _ any  _ other person in this school, I would agree with you. But you’re  _ not _ . You’re Draco Malfoy - you’ve made it your mission to make me as miserable as possible since we first got here-”

“That’s not true.”

“Really?” Hermione deadpanned, “I seem to recall you taunting me and my best friends constantly since first year. You’ve called me a Mudblood so many times that I’ve more or less become  _ immune _ to the slur. Just last week you tripped me-”

“Alright, I get the point.” 

“So forgive me if I find the idea of teaming up with you to solve Theo Nott’s murder laughable.” She made to leave and he pushed her down. “Don’t touch me!”

“Sorry!” Malfoy let out. His face pinched. It had its intended effect though, Hermione stopped moving and simply gaped at the boy. “Look -  _ please _ . I don’t know what’s going on. There’s  _ no one _ I can trust. I need your help.”

It was strange, him saying such words as ‘please’ and ‘sorry’, to  _ her _ of all people. She watched his face, perhaps waiting for him to break out into laughter and for Crabbe and Goyle to come out of the stacks and taunt her. But that didn’t happen. She watched the pain in his grey eyes as they bored into hers, and she could  _ feel _ her resolve break down.

“Fine.” She conceded, regretting it pretty much immediately.

“Alright. So you need to talk to Lovegood.” He sat down again, returning to his typical haughty demeanor. 

“Oh so  _ that’s _ why you need my help.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“No,” he seemed to be growing impatient, “look - she won’t talk to me. The other Slytherins - well, I think one of  _ them _ must have something to do with it - or else how could he have been cursed in his dorm?  _ That’s _ why I need your help - because I feel fairly confident you're not responsible for Nott’s murder.”

Hermione's eyes flashed at that - she had no idea Nott had been cursed  _ in _ Slytherin tower. “So you suspect one of your roommates?”

“Keep up,” he rolled his eyes, “but yes - they are my prime suspects. Though technically it  _ could  _ be anyone in Slytherin.”

She ignored the jab, “Do you know any details about the curse?”

Malfoy shrugged, “They won’t release anything - just saying he was ‘cursed in his sleep’.”

“Hmm.” Hermione frowned.

“What?”

“It’s just - I think you need to consider that not all curses require proximity. It could be any number of curses.” Hermione pointed out.

“Regardless, I’m finding trust a hard commodity these days.” He informed her. She considered then the love note she had acquired and his reaction - perhaps he really _was_ having some sort of crisis. This was likely a case of  _ the devil you know _ \- at the very least, they both knew where they stood with the other.  _ Very _ low.

“I’ll talk to Luna.” Hermione told him

“Good.” It was as close to a thank you as she expected.

* * *

“Luna,” Hermione started, “may I sit here?”

“Oh, of course!” Luna smiled in her sing-song way, “It’s always nice to have visitors.”

Hermione sat at the odd girl’s table. After Malfoy had cornered her in AP Bio the day before, she found herself reluctantly partnering with him on finding his wayward best friend. Of course, Malfoy somehow thought one of their  _ schoolmates _ had done something to Nott, which was preposterous. But still, curiosity got the better of her so here she was, interrogating the poor Sophomore.

“Thank you Luna.”

They sat awkwardly for a few minutes, Hermione gathering up her courage to speak, “So - I found something of yours the other day.” She slid the paper to Luna.

“Oh,” Luna said ethereally, smiling down at the note, “I appreciate you returning this to me.”

“So you and Nott were dating?” Hermione asked.

Luna blinked a few times, “I don’t know if I quite feel comfortable talking about this.” Her voice was soft but the words themselves were somehow hard.

“Sorry - I don’t mean to pry - it was just - surprising.” Hermione mumbled awkwardly.

“I’m sure it would have been.” Luna chuckled at something that likely only existed in her own head. Thankfully, the bell rang not long after and Hermione made her escape.

“Why were you sitting with Loony?” Ron asked her, peering around at the aforementioned girl.

“Hmm?” Hermione mumbled.

“I saw you at lunch with Luna Lovegood.” Ron frowned.

“Oh - I just, feel bad for her - you know? Everyone’s so mean to her - I thought I’d be friendly.” She shrugged.

“And how did that go?”

“Eh.” Hermione brushed it off.

“You heard from Harry?” Ron asked a bit more seriously.

She looked at him, “No - I thought he was still sick?”

“I went over to his place.” Ron visibly shivered. They typically did everything in their power to avoid going to Harry’s given the  _ Dursleys _ were quite - awful.

“And?”

“No one was home.” Ron shrugged.

“That’s - odd.” Hermione frowned. She was suddenly hit with a vision of Harry locking himself in his room. “Huh.”

“What is it?” He asked.

“Oh, I've just been having the oddest dreams lately.” She shook her head as if to wave him off. She wasn’t sure but she believed she was having a recurring dream where she was a  _ witch _ that studied in a  _ castle  _ in  _ Scotland _ . 

“Ugh, tell me about it” Ron shivered, “I’ve been having these dreams lately where I show up to football practice naked. It’s horrible.”

Hermione laughed, “Don’t ever change Ron Weasley.”

* * *

“That’s all?” Malfoy asked, incredulous.

“She seemed a bit offended that I even asked her. Granted Luna Lovegood a bit offended is quite delightful but still…” Hermione shrugged. It was three days before she and Malfoy were able to reconvene in the library.

“So what?”

“I dunno - it’s hard for me to believe that  _ something _ was going on with them.” She started and put up her hand when Malfoy gave her an incredulous look, “ _ Not _ because of who they are, but because she seems to be unaffected by his death.”

“You have a point.” Malfoy frowned, “But then what’s up with the note? And don’t forget - I saw them  _ arguing _ the day before he was cursed.”

“Maybe he was seeing someone else and she knew about it?” Hermione shrugged, “I don’t know. But I struggle to imagine Luna Lovegood has anything to do with his death.”

He nodded reluctantly, “Well, an Auror has been asking some odd questions around the common room.”

“Really?” Hermione’s eyes went wide. This  _ was _ unusual - typically, Dumbledore insisted on handling anything unsavory entirely in house so to speak, rather than let the MInistry ever suggest something was off at the school. “Why? Did Theo’s father insist?” But as she said it she realized that didn’t make sense at all.

Malfoy shrugged, “No one is sure - it’s a bit odd.”

They fell into an oddly companionable silence where Hermione and Malfoy each individually considered this new information. “Alright,” Hermione said finally, “so we suspect he was in some sort of relationship, and for whatever reason the Aurors are involved. There is one more thing we should probably discuss.” 

“What?” Draco frowned.

“Theo’s dad.”

“What about him?” He narrowed his eyes.

“He’s a Death Eater, isn’t he?” Hermione raised her eyebrows.

“What of it?” 

“I mean - could that have something to do with Theo’s death?”

“How could it?” Malfoy pointed out, which Hermione had to admit was a good point. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why Theo’s father being a Death Eater would cause Theo to fall prey to a curse.

“Oh,” she realized suddenly, “what if perhaps Theo’s dad were the target but the curse accidentally hit Theo? Perhaps detecting genetic similarities or something.”

Malfoy looked at her oddly, “Hmm?”

“It’s science - like if someone tried to curse Theo’s dad using his blood and somehow the curse found Theo.” Hermione tried to explain.

“Bio.” Malfoy mumbled under his breath.

Hermione frowned, “Sorry?”

“Nothing,” Draco shook his head, “just had weird deja vu or something.”

“I’ll see if I can look into the Auror.” Hermione told him, “In the meantime, maybe you can see what the other Slytherins are saying about it?”

Malfoy nodded, though he looked somewhat distracted. 

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked and then immediately wondered  _ why _ she would do such a thing.

“Didn't know you cared, Granger?” He smirked.

“I don’t. It was just a reflex. Like gas.”

* * *

“Are you  _ sure _ this is a good idea, Malfoy?” Hermione whispered to the boy. Malfoy had dragged her into his red Porsche and  _ insisted _ they follow the FBI agent who was asking all sorts of odd questions around school. “This car isn’t exactly inconspicuous.”

“Why are you whispering?” He was in his football jersey and wearing a pair of Raybans, looking right at home driving the opulent Stingray.

“Sorry - I’m not used to  _ skipping school _ and following  _ federal agents _ .” Suddenly the car turned and Malfoy abruptly parked on a side street, ducking down. Hermione imitated him on impulse. “What’s happening?”

Malfoy peeked his head up and sat upright, “He went into  _ that _ building.” He pointed to a building on their right.

“So?”

“So, we wait here. And see who else comes in and out.” Malfoy shrugged.

“You want to just - sit here? And stake out this building? We’ll miss all our classes!”

“Oh, little miss priss, worried about missing  _ one lousy day  _ of classes?” He taunted her.

“Yes,” she looked right at him, unashamed, “I’m  _ sorry _ that I take my studies seriously and don’t think that it’s a valuable use of time to just sit here and  _ hope _ to learn something.”

“Look Granger,” he rolled his eyes, “there’s no good reason for an FBI agent to be asking questions.”

“Theo’s father-”

“Yes, Theo’s  _ father _ is perhaps not the most savory character.” Malfoy looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“You know,” she smirked, “they say the same things about your father.”

“My father owns a very successful car dealership.” Malfoy sat just a little haughtier. Hermione institutionally rolled her eyes - it was well known in their town that Malfoy Motors was the home to an assortment of shady dealings. Though many in the community turned a blind eye in exchange for great deals on automobiles.

“Hmm.” Hermione gave a patronizing nod and turned to stare at the building.

“Besides Granger,” Malfoy changed the subject, “I’m sure you have already done all of your reading and assignments for the entire year.”

“That’s not the point!” She turned back to him.

“Hmm?” He raised a single eyebrow, “Then what is the point of school?”

“You’re insufferable!”

“Takes one to know one.” He mocked her.

“Aren’t you going to be benched tonight if you miss school?” She pointed out.

“Oh, you’re worried you won’t get to see me running down the football field tonight, hmm?” He raised his eyebrows in a way that, were he looking at anyone else, Hermione would have described as ‘flirtatious’, but which she found distinctly ‘repulsive’

“My apologies if I gave you the wrong idea, but I’d rather join a nunnery than consider you in any kind of - way.” She smiled sweetly.

“Oh, do I make you uncomfortable Granger?” He scooted closer to her, breathing into her neck. She was half tempted to storm out of the car but with no cash for a cab or coins for a payphone, she found herself stuck.

“Yes,” she confirmed, her back now against the door and her hand sneaking into her bag and hovering over a strategically placed bottle of pepper spray.

He laughed suddenly and returned to his seat, allowing Hermione to exhale. “I’m just fucking with you Granger. You’ve seen the girls I date, right?” He smirked, but she had stopped listening.

“Holy shit Malfoy.” She had her eyes peeled out the window.

“What?”

“You don’t know who that is?” Hermione was nodding her head towards the sidewalk.

“No.” He was once more in her personal bubble, though this time to get a better look out her window. “Who is it?”

“It’s Amelia Bones - she’s our Congresswoman.” Hermione told him and he shrugged.

“I guess she looks a little familiar.”

“Shit - I think they saw us.” She immediately panicked and was about to duck down when Malfoy turned her to face him and  _ kissed her _ . “What the hell?” She mumbled into his mouth.

“Go with it,” he whispered, firmly holding the back of her head, “no one likes to look at PDA.” So she let him kiss her. It was innocent at first and she remained perfectly still, waiting for it to stop. But suddenly he was  _ moving _ his mouth and she found herself inadvertently responding, her mouth pressing into his accordingly.

_ What am I doing? _ she questioned as she pushed her mouth towards his, wrapping her right hand around his neck to pull herself closer. She felt his tongue on her lips and opened her mouth as if on impulse. The thought hit her suddenly,  _ Draco Malfoy’s tongue is in your mouth,  _ and as abruptly as it started she pulled away, her breath inadvertently short and her face flushed.

He gave her an odd look that shifted into his signature smirk. “Looks like they’re gone.” 

She shook herself, trying  _ not _ to dwell on the fact that she kissed Draco Malfoy. “It’s quite odd - that a member of Congress would be speaking with the FBI agent looking into Theo, right?” Hermione asked him, thoughtfully.

He blinked, “I mean, I don’t know - they both work for the Federal Government, right?”

She narrowed her eyes, “It’s odd. Trust me.”

“Whatever Granger.” And like that, any tension that remained from their impromptu kiss was gone.

* * *

“What’s with you today?” Malfoy frowned at her.

“What?” Hermione jumped in surprise to find him sitting next to her at her favorite table in the Hogwarts library.

He laughed, “Shit. I’ve been sitting here for 5 minutes and you’ve just been  _ brooding _ .”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “And  _ why _ do you care?”

“Well, you’re my partner in crime, aren’t you?” He took a bite of an apple and Hermione found herself staring at his lips momentarily, watching the juices drip down to his robes.

She shook herself. After their -  _ snog _ for the greater good - she found herself  _ occasionally _ thinking that Draco Malfoy was indeed a good kisser. Though, given his reputation at school, this shouldn’t have come as  _ that  _ much of a surprise.

“It’s nothing that concerns you.” She slid her chair just slightly further away from him, abruptly opening her potions book and attempting to immerse herself in a chapter on the theory behind clockwise vs. counterclockwise stirring.

“See,” he scooted even closer, his face right next to her ear, “now I  _ absolutely _ must know what is going on.”

“What are you doing?” She turned abruptly, arms crossed.

He smirked, “I just discovered a new way to rile you up. Had to give it a go.”

She blinked - was he really -  _ flirting _ with her to piss her off? It seemed odd but then again Malfoy was a bit off himself. “Perhaps we shouldn’t work together if you’re going to be a dick.”

“Oh, I hit a nerve did I?” He snarled. It seemed no matter what she said or did he was going to somehow manage to turn it against her.

_ Two can play that game _ she thought. She turned her chair around so that she was straddling it, her elbows on the back of the chair and her face inches from Malfoy, “Is this what you want?” She whispered at him with an innocent smile. They sat there, faces inches apart and she could see his breaths grow shorter and feel its warmth against her nose.

He froze, blinking and appeared lost for words.

“Mind your own business Malfoy.” And she was back to her school work, internally cheering at her victory.

“Fine,” his face turned serious suddenly, “I guess that’s the last time I try to be nice.”

She threw her quill down and dramatically turned to him, “How was any of this you trying to be nice?”

“Psh,” he looked taken aback, “I asked what was with you?”

Hermione glared at him - willing him to go away.

“You know if you just tell me, I'll leave you alone.” He promised.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I swear on my Porsche.” He smirked which turned into a frown.

“What did you say Malfoy?” She was suddenly alert.

“I’m not sure.” He looked concerned and tried to shake it off.

“You said you swear on your Porsche - do you know what that is?” She scooted next to him, whispering.

He looked thoughtful, “I’ve been having these - odd dreams.”

“You’re not - perchance - an American Muggle asshole in them who drives a Porsche?” Hermione asked.

“No,” he scoffed, “I’m an  _ epic _ American Muggle who drives a Porsche.” Then he frowned, “Wait - how did you know that?”

“I’ve been having dreams where  _ I’m _ an American Muggle and we’re trying to find a missing Theo Nott. They were vague at first but recently they’ve become more vivid.” Hermione explained, frowning.

“That’s-”

“Not normal.” She agreed.

“I don’t get it. Why would we both be having the same dream?” He brushed his fingers through his hair, something Hermione was beginning to suspect was a nervous habit.

“Do you think it could have something to do with Theo’s death, or the curse?” Hermione suggested.

He looked uncertain, “I mean, in my dream he’s just missing - I guess, mayb-.”

“SHHH.” Hermione suddenly dragged him under the table and covered his mouth with her hand.

“What?” He whispered at her but she simply pointed to where Auror Shacklebolt and Wizengamot member Amelia Bones were walking towards the table, apparently deep in conversation.

“You still haven’t uncovered who did this, Kinglsey?” They heard Bones ask.

“Evidence indicates that it was some sort of familial curse - I'm trying to figure out what could have happened to trigger it but so far I haven’t been able to find anything concrete.” Kingsley shook his head.

“I  _ told  _ him he’d be safe if he talked to us! What happened?” Amelia frowned.

“Look, we still have his testimony-”

“Without him we’ll be hard pressed to go to trial. The Death Eaters will continue to gain resources.”

Hermione and Malfoy stared at each other, barely noticing when the odd pair’s footsteps had faded to nothing. Slowly, they came out of their hiding place.

“Theo was an-”

“Informant.” Hermione finished, looking equally dumbfounded.

“And it was a  _ familial  _ curse!” Draco whispered.

“What does that mean?” She frowned.

“Hmm? Oh - it can mean any number of things. Sometimes a family will curse it’s own blood in order to keep the family  _ pure _ or sometimes a family’s blood  _ will be  _ cursed. So I’m assuming he took some action or did something that caused him to be cursed.” He explained.

She scoffed, “That’s barbaric.”

He shrugged, “I mean, it’s not  _ ideal _ . It’s why before getting married most families will do extensive curse testing to ensure that the marriage won’t accidentally trigger something.”

“You purebloods can be quite odd.”

“Yes, cause Muggle traditions like  _ pep rallies _ make so much sense.” He drawled.

She started chuckling but it soon turned into a full on belly laugh. “What?” He demanded.

“I’m just,” she had to stop talking because she was laughing so hard she had grabbed her stomach and was now holding back tears, “just - oh my gosh.”

“I swear to god Granger-”

“Sorry,” Hermione started to get a hold of herself, wiping the tears from her eyes, “I’m just thinking about you playing football and all.”

His anger faded into a smirk, “Oh, thinking about me playing  _ football _ are you?”

She frowned, “Are we back to this?”

“Are you going to continue trying to avoid telling me why you’ve been so odd?” He rebutted.

She narrowed her eyes but relented, “Harry’s been sick for a week. I’m worried about him.”

He blinked, “That’s it? Potter’s sick and you’re worried about him?” She nodded. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“Because,” she pointed out, “it’s none of your business.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I heard Potter’s back.” Hermione rolled her eyes at the familiar drawl of Draco Malfoy.

“Not now.” She bemoaned, turning her attention to her calculus notes, willing the formulas to stick in her head.

“Class doesn’t start for 10 minutes.” He pointed out, grabbing the chair in front of her desk and pulling it up to hers.

“Yes, and I plan to do well on this test. So if you don’t mind.” She gestured for him to leave.

Malfoy, unsurprisingly, ignored her, “I just thought you’d be interested in something I saw.” He smirked. Well, she wasn’t looking at him but felt confident from his tone he was smirking.

“I’m not.” She informed him, eyes firmly planted on her notes.

“I saw Potter _hugging_ Luna Lovegood.” He remarked. She looked up and caught him leaning back in his chair, one eyebrow raised.

“No! Not - hugging? My oh my,” she fanned herself dramatically, attempting a southern drawl, “what will her father say if word of such behavior reaches the eligible men in town?”

He rolled his eyes, "Are you done?”

“Draco Malfoy, you speak to me in such a familiar manner! Why, are you wishing to court me sir?” She continued, blinking her eyes at him until he finally turned around.

While she may have mocked him, he did have a point. As far as Hermione was aware, Harry and Luna were _not_ friends - or even acquaintances for that matter. But perhaps her best friend was keeping secrets from her? She frowned, contemplating if perhaps prolonged exposure to Malfoy was making her needlessly suspicious.

The bell rang and Hermione put her pencil down, fairly certain she did quite well and was innocently heading to her locker when she was yanked into the rarely used eraser room. “What?” she mumbled before she saw who it was, "Oh, it’s you again.”

“He’s _your_ best friend. Why would he be hugging Luna?” Malfoy’s arms were crossed, his foot tapping impatiently. She cocked her head to the side, wondering if he had spent the entirety of class angsting about this.

Hermione shrugged, "Beats me. You know, I'm not his mother, he does things I'm not aware of I'm sure.”

“Don’t be daft.” He frowned.

“Daft?” She narrowed her eyes, "Where did that come from?”

He shook himself, “I’m not sure - I’ve recently found myself full of odd British phrases.”

“That is odd.” She frowned.

“Anyways,” he closed his eyes momentarily before staring intently at her, “isn’t it a bit _odd_ that Luna seems to be ‘friendly’ with not one, but two upperclassman?”

Hermione shrugged, “I guess I’m more stuck on the fact that Theo Nott’s an _informant for the FBI!"_ she pointed out.

He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, “So?”

“So?!” She exclaimed, her hands flailing in the air haphazardly, “Doesn’t it _maybe_ make more sense that _someone_ found out he was spilling Mob secrets and perhaps did something to him or made him disappear?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Ugh.” she swung her hands down. She was getting ready to storm out when they heard the door open and suddenly Malfoy pulled her to him and they were once again _kissing_ , his arms wrapped around her possessively. She felt her hips jut towards his, _reflexively_ she told herself as she unconsciously moaned into him.

“Oh sorry!” They heard a small squeak from the door and it immediately shut. 

She pushed Malfoy away immediately, her eyes wide, "Why do you keep kissing me?”

He shrugged, “What other good reason would we have to be here?”

“But - I - you can’t just _kiss_ me every time someone sees us. What will they think?” She shook her head. It was one thing to be potentially seen kissing Draco Malfoy by a random FBI agent - it was an entirely _different_ matter if a classmate saw them. This was _high school_ \- no way would this remain a secret for long.

“They’ll think _'Damn, Draco Malfoy is slumming it',"_ Draco - _Malfoy,_ she corrected internally, smirked, his hands running along his khakis as if rubbing dirt from them.

“Really? More like they’ll think I’ve gone utterly _insane_ , which, come to think of it, perhaps I have.” She mumbled, “Besides, what would have been wrong with us, I don’t know, talking?”

“The last thing we need is for people to suspect what we’re up to.” Malfoy pointed out. 

She really didn't get it. “Why?”

“Because someone here is responsible for Theo’s disappearance!” He insisted.

She rolled her eyes, “I _really_ don’t think a high schooler somehow made _Theo Nott_ disappear.” This was becoming a familiar argument - he thought it was some sort of high school conspiracy whereas she, rationally, assumed it had to do with the boy’s father’s _criminal_ dealings. “Look, if you want to continue chasing around high schoolers, go on ahead. I’m going to investigate his father.”

Malfoy looked alarmed, “Don’t be an idiot.”

“What?” She had been called many things in life but never an idiot.

“You’re going to get yourself killed” His tone was _intense._

“Oh Malfoy,” she feigned swooning, “I didn’t know you cared.”

He shrugged, “I don’t. It would just be annoying to have to find someone _else_ to investigate with.” He crossed his arms again, his face impassive.

“I get it Malfoy, you’re in love with me. It happens.” She gave him a patronizing pat on the shoulder and left, not bothering to wait for a response.

* * *

“Glad you’re feeling better Harry.” Hermione smiled at her best friend as she sat down for dinner in the Great Hall. Ron mumbled something similar before stuffing a roll in his mouth.

“Hmm.” Harry commented unhelpfully, nibbling at a piece of chicken breast.

“What was wrong with you anyways?” She asked.

“Flu.” Harry blinked before shoving a forkful of mashed potatoes in his mouth.

“And the flu kept you bedridden for two weeks?” She cocked her head to the side.

Harry’s eyes narrowed at her, "What?"

She put up her hands in defense, "It’s nothing! Just - it’s odd is all.”

Harry just shrugged, "Sorry."

It was strange, he was back but he wasn’t _really_ back. He gave one word answers and seemed to sleep walk from class to class. She wanted to attribute it to recovery from his illness but he kept going back to Malfoy’s wild theories about Luna Lovegood.

_“What if,” Malfoy had suggested when they spoke that morning, “Luna was dating both Harry and Theo. And Harry found out and cursed him?”_

_“Are you still on this?” She looked up from her text on Ancient Runes, “I told you, I’m no longer entertaining your theories that this was some sort of student led conspiracy.”_

_He rolled his eyes, “Potter could have easily cast some sort of familial curse. Or - maybe he found out about an existing Nott curse and triggered it.”_

_“Yes, because Harry is so well versed in Pureblood curses and customs. That totally makes sense.” She deadpanned, "And furthermore, I struggle to believe Luna Lovegood was somehow carrying on two separate affairs.” Hermione explained quite rationally._

She continued to nibble at her vegetables and watch her friend with growing suspicion. He didn’t _seem_ sick - just, _depressed._ What could possibly have happened that caused him to feel that way?

And suddenly, she had a growing fear that Draco was right! What if Harry did something to Theo, and it killed him? Maybe it was an accident - but obviously Harry would be feeling incredibly guilty. That would explain his freaking out when Ron told them he had died, and why he was hiding out. Though it wouldn’t necessarily explain his hugging Luna...

“Harry,” she smiled at him gently, “if there’s something going on you want to talk about, you know i’m here for you.”

“Thanks.” He looked at her momentarily, the shadow of a smile forming before it dropped away. She bit her lip, head tilted to the side as she considered further and decided the possibility that Harry killed Theo was just _too_ outrageous.

She would, with or without Malfoy, investigate the Mob- Death Eaters and figure out if they cursed Theo before even _entertaining_ Harry’s culpability.

* * *

_This was a terrible idea_ she told herself as she walked towards the _Snake’s Den,_ donning a scandalously short dress and stiletto heels with enough makeup on to give Pansy Parkinson a run for her money. The building was old and showed evidence of disrepair, the ‘Snake’s Den’ sign flashing from lack of proper electricity. The sidewalk had cracks throughout, forcing Hermione to walk slowly to avoid an embarrassing trip in her 3” heels.

“You lost?” The doorman looked her up and down as she approached, pausing at her chest before giving her a predatory smirk.

She shivered internally but smiled tentatively, hoping to look seductive, “I’m having a bit of car trouble - I’d _really_ appreciate it if I could use the phone?” 

The man looked contemplative for a moment before nodding, “I guess, yo Pettigrew!” The man yelled inside unceremoniously. A small rat like man crept over, "Take this chick to use the phone.”

“Yeah, whatever Goyle.” Pettigrew rolled his eyes.

Hermione blinked and looked again at the doorman, recognizing the last name. _Curious,_ she thought as she followed Pettigrew inside. The _Snake’s Den_ was a notorious Mob bar, patronized (she imagined) by an assortment of unsavory individuals. The place was busy, in spite of it being late afternoon on a weekday. She saw out of the corner of her eye the infamous Riddle holding court in the back corner, along with who she assumed was Malfoy’s father, based on the long blond hair, standing off to his side. 

“C’mon,” Pettigrew beckoned her to move faster and she found herself in what appeared to be a back office. An older man, who looked vaguely familiar, sat at a desk in the back.

“What are you doing here?” The man asked.

Pettigrew shrugged, "She needs to use the phone.”

The unknown man gave an annoyed sigh, "Fine. Keep an eye on her though.” He looked at her with suspicion and Hermione felt an odd shiver go down her spine.

“Yeah, whatever Nott.” Pettigrew rolled his eyes. Nott got up and left, taking a few papers with him.

Hermione tried _not_ to react to that - _so this was Theo Nott’s father?_ There was certainly an element of familiarity. She did not recall Theo Nott’s presence having such a chilling effect though.

“Thank you.” She attempted to smile at Pettigrew as she picked up the phone. She tapped her foot anxiously, feeling an odd sense of relief when the person on the other end answered.

_“Hello?”_

“Malfoy,” she whispered, “it’s me.”

_“Granger? What is it?”_

“So I may have gone to the _Snake’s Den_ to investigate.” She whispered, covering her mouth with her hand.

_“DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?”_

She winced at the yell and shushed him, earning a suspicious glance from Pettigrew, “It’s just my boyfriend - he doesn’t like me in bars without him.” She told the man sweetly.

_“Did you just call me your boyfriend Granger?”_ She could _hear_ the smirk in his voice.

“Shut up. Can you come pick me up?” She pleaded.

_“Didn’t I explicitly tell you this was a bad idea?”_

“Why do you think I didn’t tell you until now?” She pointed out.

_“Fine. But you owe me.”_

“Whatever.” She hung up quietly and looked around, trying to find clues.

“You done?” Pettigrew asked impatiently.

“Hmm.” She nodded and reluctantly followed the man, walking slowly to the front door to wait for her ride on the dilapidated sidewalk. As luck would have it, Nott was outside having a heated conversation with another man. Pettigrew left her and she stood off to the side, out of sight, but close enough to overhear.

_“I just can’t think of where he’d have gone.” Nott said._

_“You’re absolutely sure he ran away? Your kid doesn’t seem the type.”_

_“Of course - we had a fight and then he just up and left!”_

Hermione frowned, trying to reconcile this with all of the other information she and Malfoy had collected. Was it _really_ that simple? He was a teenage boy after all - maybe the stress of everything with the Feds finally got to him. But where would he have gone?

“Girl, you eavesdropping?” The man Nott was talking to asked, taking a drag of a cigarette and blowing the smoke in her face.

“No, sorry, just waiting on my ride.” She tried to look calm. But the man was now standing a half a foot from her, a predatory smile on his face.

“Ah sweetheart, you don’t want to stay awhile?” The man was much older than her - probably older than her own father. His breath stank of cigarettes and whiskey and Hermione felt on the verge of puking. 

She was trying to keep her wits about her, “Oh sorry can’t, I have plans with my boyfriend.” She realized the second it came out how idiotic it sounded.

“Oh honey, who cares about him.” He kept moving towards her, causing her to walk backwards until she was flush against a brick wall. _Shit,_ she _knew_ this was a bad idea. She was going to be killed and at her funeral Malfoy was going to say, _And I told her it was a stupid idea!_

“Ah, there you are Granger.” She was stunned to feel tangible _relief_ when he came up to her, grabbed her hand and pulled her away. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her Dolohov.”

“Eh Malfoy, you take good care of her.” The older man put out his cigarette and gave Malfoy a suggestive wink.

They didn’t say a word as they turned into the parking lot and got into Malfoy’s car. “What the fuck were you thinking Granger?”

He was angry - a part of Hermione realized _irrationally_ so but that part of her was currently taking a back seat to the utter _relief_ that he had arrived when he did, “I,” she started but her heart was beating erratically and she struggled to get the words out, "Thank you.”

This seemed to throw him off and he just grunted and started driving. An odd silence hung over them until Malfoy put on the radio. Hermione instantly started laughing, recognizing the familiar song. It wasn’t a _rational_ reaction. But given the circumstances, it seemed appropriate.

Malfoy apparently felt the same and his frown slowly turned into a smile. He gave Hermione a few chastising glances until he too was laughing. Hermione turned the volume up and started lip syncing to _I’m Too Sexy_ , earning further laughter from Malfoy as she began making vogue gestures with her hands.

“Stop it.” He told her, laughing uncontrollably, “I'm trying to drive.”

“I’m sorry Malfoy,” she told him earnestly, “but I’m too sexy for my cat.” And just like that she broke into laughter again. “Ugh, I needed that.” She told him, wiping her eyes as the song came to an end and a more innocuous one took its place.

“Are you alright?” He asked her, his face appearing serious once more. She looked at him curiously - his tone sounded like he legitimately _cared._

“Yeah - I am.” She assured him.

“Good. Because as I mentioned earlier, it would be annoying if you had been killed.” He looked at her with a snide grin.

“Yes Malfoy, god forbid I _inconvenience_ you.” She rolled her eyes.

“Did you learn anything?” He asked, ignoring her jibe and focused on the road in front of him.

“Hmm? Yes.” Hermione suddenly recalled the conversation she eavesdropped on before getting caught, “I overheard Theo’s dad say he thinks Theo ran away. I guess they had a fight before he went missing.”

“Ran away?” Malfoy frowned.

“Hmm.” She shrugged. He pulled to a stop in front of her house. She started to get out and had a strange thought, "Do you want to come in?” Perhaps the stress of the recent situation made her reluctant to be alone, or maybe she felt some need to talk through the recent information. Regardless, she realized she _wanted_ to _spend time_ with Draco Malfoy. It was a strange feeling, like acid reflux or the sensation of touching a hot stove.

“Into your house?” He sounded confused.

“My parents work late.” She explained, “We can uh - regroup. Figure out what this means for our investigation.”

He seemed to consider this before turning the car off and following her in. She felt oddly self-conscious of her split level as she watched Malfoy look around, presumably judging the place. “It’s nice.” He told her apathetically.

“Do you want something to drink?” She led him to the kitchen.

He gave an indecisive shrug and sat at the kitchen island. She could feel his eyes on her as she pulled out two cups and filled them with iced tea, "What?" She asked finally as she placed his drink in front of him.

“Do you often go to known Mob bars?” He was now looking her up and down and her cheeks reddened as she remembered her outfit.

“No.” She told him, pulling the dress down and grabbing a tissue to wipe the make-up off her face.

“Hmm.” He cocked his head and took a sip of his iced tea, gratuitously licking his lips as he continued to stare at her.

It _should_ have offended her - she knew rationally she should have kicked him out or taken some sort of action. As it was she couldn’t help but feel - aroused? She was relatively _inexperienced_ in the boy department. She had shared kisses and above the waist action with Ron freshman year but that was it. Her kisses with Malfoy had been far superior to those youthful antics, which she chalked up to his _multitude_ of experience.

Regardless of what his stares made her feel, she took a deep breath and rolled her eyes, "Up here Malfoy.” She snapped at him and he smirked as he lifted his grey eyes to meet hers. 

He got out of his chair and walked around the island to where she stood. She remained still, unwilling to move, though she wasn’t sure if it was in anticipation or defiance, or perhaps a combination of both. He walked right up to her, his face less than a foot from hers and licked his lips again, bringing his right hand up to tuck a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

She blinked, trying to regain control of herself but the feel of his hand brought a warmth to her stomach that rendered her speechless. _Oh hell,_ she thought before she stepped forward and kissed him. 

He seemed surprised momentarily before he grabbed the back of her head, pushing himself into her. She moaned at the contact, her hips meeting his as she deepened the kiss, grabbing his waist. _Don’t think about it,_ she convinced herself, focusing on the sensations of his hands running over her back. They weren’t trying to avoid getting caught by a fed or scaring off a freshman - this time, they were just kissing because - well, _that_ was what she had decided not to think about. 

He paused for a moment, stepping a few inches back and looking at her. “Shut up.” She told him preemptively and pushed him into the island, ignoring the _clink_ as the plastic cup of iced tea spilled out onto the floor. He responded immediately, grabbing her ass and chuckling into her mouth when she made the most odd little noises.

“Is that what you want Granger?” He breathed into her ear as he began moving his hand _lower_ onto her upper thigh. She nodded, unwilling to speak, afraid if she said anything substantive it would somehow snap them back to reality which she most assuredly in that moment did _not_ want. He was kissing her neck, all while he slowly, _painfully_ slowly pulled her tiny dress up until his hand was hovering just over her panties.

_Oh shit,_ she thought for the millionth time that afternoon. She felt some combination of anxious, stimulated, and embarrassed - her breath hitched as he ever so slowly began to pet her over her underthings. She wasn’t familiar with how all of the _below the belt_ activities worked so she felt frozen as his fingers worked her, the sensation new but not unwanted.

“Shit.” She found herself saying out loud as he seemed to find _just_ the right spot and she inadvertently leaned into him.

“You like that?” His voice was taunting and for some reason that just aroused her further. She took the opportunity to look at him, his grey eyes filled with utter confidence in his abilities. 

She gave him a smirk and kissed him again, leaning her weight against him as his ministrations grew more urgent. She was struggling to remain standing and found herself breathing heavily into his mouth, her vocal chords whimpering and betraying her.

“It’s okay, you can let it out.” He whispered to her and she _did,_ a small shriek leaving her as she collapsed into his arms. 

He kept her upright, his smirk giving way to a more pensive look. She felt her breaths slow, her mind clearing as the reality of the situation suddenly hit her. She had just had an _orgasm_ . Correction: Draco Malfoy, notorious man-slut and captain of the football team had just given her an _orgasm_. 

She swallowed and slowly pulled away from him, all of the thoughts she had pushed down in the moment suddenly overtaking her. She considered all the times he called her a Mudblood-

Wait - _what?_ She blinked, because that didn’t make sense. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I’ve just - been having these dreams. And sometimes they seem to seep into my reality.” She tried to dismiss the strange thought.

“What kind of dreams?” He was suddenly serious, frowning at her and she remembered a similar moment in her _dream._

“I dream that I’m a witch and go to a magic school in Scotland.” She told him.

“Did you and I talk about it once?” 

“Yes.” She frowned, her eyes darting around the room as if willing the situation to make sense, “It’s like, when I’m there I’m sure that’s real and this is the dream but when I’m here-”

_"That’s_ the dream.” He finished for her with a nod.

“What does it mean? Why are we having these dreams?” She started pacing. Logically, it made sense that _this_ was the real world. What was the likelihood that she was some sort of _witch_ who studied in a _castle_ in _Scotland_? That was utterly preposterous.

“I’m not sure - they are oddly similar - well, except for the other world being _magical."_ He pointed out.

She nodded, “I agree, though in the dream world Theo Nott is _dead."_

“Maybe we’re having dreams to guide us to where Theo is?” He suggested.

She gave him an incredulous look, "Yes. ‘Cause high schoolers investigating missing students often have shared dreams.”

He put his hands up, “Well I’ve got nothing better. And you have to admit, after your little _excursion_ today, it doesn’t look like the Death - Mob,” he frowned at his slip, “are involved.”

Hermione nodded, “I _still_ don’t think Harry did anything but given he has been behaving quite strangely in both places, perhaps it is worth confronting him.”

He gave her the most self-congratulatory shit eating grin then and she had half a mind to slap him. “Fuck you Malfoy.” She sneered instead.

* * *

“Malfoy,” Hermione was biting her lip as she approached the Slytherin in the library.

“Granger.” He drawled.

“So - just checking. Did you, possibly, have a dream where we are American muggles and, well-” she trailed off, her face contorting strangely. 

“Hmm?” He was smirking, "You’ll have to be more specific, I have _quite_ a few dreams.”

She squinted her eyes, "Alright then,” she stepped a foot closer, blatantly in his personal space now, “did you have a dream with _me_ in my muggle _kitchen_?” She asked quietly.

He blinked, his smirk slightly faded, "Well, in _my_ dream we snogged and I made you scream my name in ecstasy.”

She frowned, “Hmmm I guess we’re not sharing the same dreams - I recall a much _tamer_ reaction.”

“Oh really? Should we repeat the performance here in the light of day? See how you react now?” He taunted, his hand brushing against her hip.

She wished herself suddenly to be more sexually experienced, because if she were then _surely_ his long fingers and soft breath wouldn’t have such an effect on her. She remained still, closing her eyes and attempting to _breath normally_ as she felt his hand oh so deftly push between the split in her robes and find the bit of skin between her trousers and shirt. 

“This is,” she started, suddenly remembering where they were.

“What is it, Granger?” His hand was now hovering at her waistband - taunting and teasing. Her breath quickened and she willed herself to think of all the reasons this was a _horrible_ idea. They were enemies. He was a bigoted little shit. He probably had STDs. But even as she thought it, she felt her hand automatically go to his waist, pulling him closer.

“For research purposes only.” She informed him, pulling his face to her own. He didn’t freeze this time - just smiled into her mouth and suddenly tucked his hand under her panties. He pushed her just slightly so she was leaning against a bookshelf. Somewhere in her mind, the rule abiding goodie two shoes side of her was screaming _YOU CAN'T BE HOOKING UP WITH DRACO MALFOY IN THE LIBRARY_ but suddenly he was circling her sensitive spot and she bucked into him.

Besides, she reasoned with the buzzkill part of her, she wanted to know if it was as good awake as it was in her dream. She pulled at his hair, scratching at his head and brushing his too blonde tresses with her fingers. His hands deftly continued their explorations, slowly working their way _down_ and she broke off the kiss, pressing her lips against his cool neck. “Shit Malfoy.” She breathed into him, completely falling apart as he placed one finger in her and continued pressing circles over her clit with his thumb.

“How’s the research going?” His voice was deep, his fingers never hesitating as she held her head back and felt her mouth open on impulse. It was too much, the feeling of him drilling a finger in and out of her and just as she was about to let out a stream of obscenities he placed his mouth on hers. “Shh.” He reminded her, a smirk playing on his lips and she became completely undone.

He gently removed his hands, unceremoniously wiping them on her robe and taking a tentative step back. “Perhaps you were not entirely wrong.” She informed him, straightening out her robes and brushing her hair with her fingers.

Suddenly she remembered where they were, "Did we _seriously_ just do _that_ in the Hogwarts library?” 

He grinned, completely unaffected, "It would appear so.” 

“What if someone saw us?” She whisper-yelled.

He rolled his eyes, "We’re in the _library_. The only people who come here are swots. Who cares?”

It was like a bucket of ice water suddenly reminding her of what a little shit he was. “Me. I come to the library.”

“Yes.” He smiled knowingly, “And now, you can say you come _in_ the library.” He looked entirely too proud of himself for that little quip.

“Whatever Malfoy.” She had to stop watching his lips and _focus_ , "For whatever reason, we are sharing dreams about being American muggles. Why?”

He frowned, “I assume it has to be related to what happened to Theo.”

She considered it, "Do you think it’s just us?”

“I _think_ so. Though it wouldn’t hurt to ask around - see if anyone else is having vivid dreams of living as an American muggle.” He shrugged and took a seat. Hermione followed, sitting purposefully across from him to prevent further - shenanigans.

“It’s quite disconcerting. I feel as though I’m living in two worlds and they keep bleeding into each other.” She explained, "To be honest, I’m beginning to question what’s real.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she started thoughtfully, “both seem equally real when we are in them. What if neither is real?”

“Granger, _obviously_ this world is real. Even you said it in the dream - people don’t just _share_ dreams in the muggle world. It’s a magical thing.” He pointed out.

“I dunno.” She shook her head, "Something just feels off.”

“I have a theory,” he started. “What if, in order to solve his murder, we must figure out _what happened_ to Theo in our dream?”

“But - that still doesn’t make sense!” Hermione frowned.

He shrugged, “I know - but I mean - magic.” He did a little wave of his hand as if that helped explain the matter.

“I guess that’s a better theory than anything I have.” She looked somewhat defeated, "We should probably talk to Harry.”

Conveniently, Harry was completing his DADA work at a table on the other side of the library. He looked at Hermione and Malfoy with a cross between surprise and disbelief. “Er.” He grunted, his eyes darting back and forth between the two.

“Harry,” Hermione sat next to her friend while Malfoy remained standing, looking distinctly uncomfortable. 

“What’s going on?” Harry asked Hermione, though his eyes were stuck on Malfoy.

“Malfoy and I have been investigating Theo Nott’s murder.” She told him. He looked panicked for a moment and Hermione tried not to dwell too much on it.

“Why?” He bit.

“Because he was murdered in our school, Harry.” She told him slowly, confused by his reaction, “I mean, aren’t you curious about what happened?”

“I guess.” 

“Potter,” Malfoy started in his typical patronizing drawl, “why have you been acting weird the last few weeks?”

“What?” 

“Harry,” Hermione’s tone was soft and apologetic, “you were ‘sick’ for two weeks and since then have just been sad and depressed. Did something happen?”

“It’s - look,” Harry looked torn, “it has nothing to do with him _dying."_

Hermione _really_ wanted to believe him, "Alright, I believe you,” she lied, “it’s just - it seems like something was going on between Luna and Theo and then between you and Luna and well -”

“What?” Harry was incredulous. Hermione and Malfoy looked at each, both surprised at the utter - disbelief in Harry’s tone. “Nothing’s going on with Luna!”

“We found this note.” Hermione pulled the aforementioned paper from her bag and handed it to him. He swallowed and read it, his eyes starting to water.

“Oh.” Malfoy said and his face paled. 

“What?” Hermione asked and Malfoy proceeded to make a series of unhelpful hand gestures.

Harry looked at Hermione sadly, “I didn’t kill Theo Nott. I loved him.”

* * *

“You _love_ him?” Hermione was frozen. She and Malfoy had confronted Harry in the auto shop as soon as school let out.

He gave Malfoy a wary look, “It started sophomore year.”

“Huh.” Malfoy looked like he was finally finding the answer to a long outstanding question.

“I’m sorry.” Hermione said suddenly, shaking her head, “I should have been a better friend-”

“Stop,” Harry shook his head with a soft smile, _"I_ \- _we_ kept this from everyone. His father,” he paused, once again looking skeptically at Draco Malfoy, “would not accept Theo was gay.”

“Do you have any idea where he went?” Hermione asked, frowning.

Harry shook his head, “I went looking for him - that’s where I was. I searched _everywhere_ we used to go.”

“So he didn’t tell you he was leaving?” Malfoy clarified.

Harry looked torn. Hermione nodded and explained, “We know he was an informant to the FBI but we don’t believe the Mob is responsible for his disappearance.”

Harry seemed somewhat surprised, “That note you have from Luna - that was from his goodbye note.”

Hermione and Malfoy looked to one another thoughtfully. “When did you two become friends?” Harry frowned.

“We’re not.” They said simultaneously. Harry simply shrugged and put his safety glasses on, returning to whatever he was doing when they interrupted.

Hermione and Malfoy looked thoughtful as they headed out, “So,” she started, looking nervously at her hands, “I have a crazy idea.”

Malfoy frowned, "What?”

“I think we need to go to Scotland.” She shrugged.

He stopped in his tracks. “What?”

“Think about it - we’re having these dreams, perhaps they are leading us to Theo.” She suggested.

“But _why_ would he be in Scotland?” Malfoy pointed out.

She considered this, 'Honestly? I’m not sure. But Malfoy, I’m starting to get really freaked out.” 

“I know what you mean.”

“No - I don’t think you do,” she shook her head, “I feel like I’m going crazy - I don’t know what’s _real_ anymore. I don’t even feel like I’m going to sleep anymore or that time is moving properly. It’s like, we’re living in two worlds that are just meshing together.” She was blinking, trying to keep her tears from falling.

* * *

“Granger,” Malfoy said softly as they entered the room of requirement, “trust me, I feel the same way.”

“Do you?” She was crying now, the tears streaming slowly, “Because you were so confident _this_ was real and I wanted to believe you but none of it makes sense!”

He looked conflicted, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be kind in that moment. “I was just trying to be logical. But honestly, it’s all been quite - surreal. I think you’re right - neither of these worlds quite make sense.”

“So you agree? The next time we’re - there, we should try and come here?” She looked at him hopefully.

He smiled, it was awkward because he’d never _really_ given her a friendly smile but she appreciated the effort, “We should.”

“And should we try and go to America?” She asked.

He looked pained by this, “Honestly, I’m not even sure _where_ we were in America. It felt quite generic.”

She nodded, “Yes, I suspect it was a generic high school TV experience. Once I began to suspect it wasn’t real, I assumed what we saw was based on mine or someone else’s memories of watching American television.”

Malfoy looked like he had no idea what she was talking about and just shrugged.

“As strange as it is, I’m glad you’re here with me.” She told him, and almost immediately regretted it.

“Of course you are.” He smirked, “Because I’m _incredibly_ handsome and charming.”

“Nevermind, I take it back.”

“Too late. Oh Granger, I knew you were sweet on me, I just didn’t know _how_ sweet until now.” His grin was predatory.

“I’m _sweet_ on no one Malfoy. Our dalliances were for purely scientific reasons.” She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh?” Draco raised an eyebrow and removed his robes, revealing a pair of nicely fitted khaki slacks and a fitted white shirt. She audibly gulped, noticing the bulge of his muscles. But she was _not_ one of those girls! It was who people were on the _inside_ that counted - and as far as she could tell on the inside Malfoy was a little shit.

“Yes,” she explained, staring him head on and backing away slowly as he began to stalk her, “it was to check if the _sensations_ that occurred in one state would occur in the other. If perhaps your behavior was different - to judge whether you were truly experiencing the same things I was or if perhaps my mind had made it up.”

“Oh,” he repeated, his smile broad, “so when you _dream_ , am I often there to help you find your _release._ ”

“You’re twisting my words,” she felt herself back into a - _bed_? _WHY WAS THERE A BED IN THE ROOM OF REQUIREMENT?_ “Why is there a bed here?”

Malfoy shrugged innocently, “I guess the room thought we would need a bed.”

“But we don’t,” she pointed out, “because a bed would imply that some sort of shenanigan was taking place and as we established we have no need for further convening in this world so we should really go our separate ways.” But as she said it, Malfoy was suddenly hovering over her, his legs straddling hers as she was half sitting on the bed. She made a small effort to leave, so that she could, in hindsight, say _well I made an effort to not do this but he swayed me with his Slytherin ways._

“It felt good, didn’t it Granger?” He whispered in her ear. His fingers were softly massaging the side of her head and she found herself leaning into them. He gently pushed her down so her back was flat on the bed, she made a small groan as if to protest but really just watched him as he stood staring down at her.

“Why?” She asked, suddenly frowning. He was hovering over her, his hands gently rubbing up and down her sides. “I mean, you’re _Draco Malfoy_. You can get any girl - is this a conquest thing? Get the muggle born to bow down to you?” He didn’t stop his movements and just kept watching her.

Hermione felt oddly clinical and sat up on her elbows, just watching as he crept his hands ever higher, his face pensive, presumably in consideration of her question. She didn’t _feel_ used, she felt curious - the whole situation a Cartesian conundrum. What was real and what wasn’t? If this was merely a dream, did what they do here actually _matter_?

“You fascinate me.” He told her, his mouth hovering centimetres from her ear. The wisp of his breaths left her blinking, her heart beating erratically. He was slowly removing her robe and she _let_ him. The truth was, she didn’t know what they were doing - and if she was honest, it _was_ fascinating. Her robe now off, she half lay in just her navy skirt, white polo and knee high socks. 

He leaned his head down, pausing just an inch from Hermione’s, as if to say _this is your last chance to turn back down._ She pushed herself forward and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She felt him topple onto her, their kisses languid and exploratory. It was different, she realized, from their previous dalliances which seemed rushed and messy.

He pushed her back so she was completely flat on the bed. He crawled over her, blinking, and paused. “Are you alright?” Hermione asked, looking up into his apparently conflicted eyes, “We can stop?” She suggested.

He shook his head and licked his lips, “Metaphysical crisis.” He explained, leaning down to lay kisses on her neck while his hands slowly crawled to her waist. She pushed her hips forward, leaning her head to the side to give him better access. 

“I know what you mean,” she responded, her voice raspy. His hands were now creeping back up, taking her polo with him. She raised her arms, letting him pull the shirt off. “Like what is real? If this is a dream or a different reality, is this moment existing?” While she mused he lay kisses across her chest, his hand gently playing with her breasts.

“Granger?” He started and paused, his right hand tucked inside her bra. She looked at him concerned, “Will you shut up?”

“Fuck you Malfoy. Oh.” She moaned at the end as his lips brushed a particularly sensitive spot just under her right ear. She grabbed his hair and pulled his face back to hers, because if he was going to tell her to shut up then he was going to kiss her, damnit.

She pawed at his shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. She felt her neck redden as her hands moved up and down his bare torso, feeling each and every muscle. She felt irrationally nervous now, his taut body hovering just inches above her. His hands moved lower and she felt her breath quicken in anticipation, her hips jutted out just slightly in invitation.

“Oh, you want that?” He taunted her, his hand moving to her hips, drawing light circles just above her skirt. She tried to stop the small grunts and gasps that escaped her, a part of her still seeing this as some sort of game or competition.

“Shut the fuck up Malfoy.” She moaned, repeating his earlier order. She felt the soft chuckle that escaped him, its vibrations teasing her. He pulled her skirt down, once more his motions painfully slow. She was sure he knew the effect this had on her, and she watched as he moved away from her lips to focus on the task. He was on his knees by her feet, laying light kisses along her thighs as he finally removed the skirt, crawling back up once the task was fully complete. 

A part of her thought to be self conscious - there she was, laying on a bed nearly naked with Draco Malfoy. But he wasn’t that cruel boy right now - the one who bullied her and called her _Mudblood_. This was her partner in crime - the one who picked her up at the _Snake’s Den_ even though she went behind his back. He kissed her once more, and then proceeded to plant kisses down her chest, to her torso, until he was once again at her hips and pulling down her panties. 

She expected him to kiss her again and her eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets when she felt his lips planting soft kisses along the _inside of her_ _thighs_. Returning to her elbows, she watched nervously as his mouth grew closer and closer to _there_. “Malfoy.” She started.

He raised one eyebrow and smirked, “Do you trust me, Granger?”

She considered this, “Not really.”

He shrugged, “Trust me anyways.”

“Alright.” She frowned, surprised at herself for agreeing so readily and nearly gasped as she felt his mouth on her. She was once more aware of just how _bare_ she was. As he moved a finger to slowly work her and his tongue continued to place pressure on her clit, she couldn’t help but wonder what he was _thinking_.

“Stop it.” He moved his head up just an inch.

“What?” She whined, frowning at the lack of contact. 

“I can hear you _thinking_. Just _relax."_ She shuddered slightly as he returned to his earlier patterns. And she desperately tried to do as he suggested, closing her eyes and focusing solely on the sensations. It was like nothing she had felt before, a wholly new pleasure from their previous escapades. She found herself grabbing roughly at the comforter, her hips instinctively pressing into his mouth.

“Oh god,” she squirmed. It was _too much_ \- she was sure. She felt his fingers move faster, the pressure of his tongue harder and she blurted out a series of obscenities, “Holy shit, mother fucker, Malfoy, fuck.”

She felt suddenly weak, like her muscles had turned to goo. It was a strange feeling, and she watched with a sense of detachment as Malfoy crawled up to her, his ever constant smirk plastered across his alabaster face. “So?”

“It was alright.” She told him, but she couldn’t stop the grin that spread.

“Fuck you.” He responded and kissed her. She was nervous, the feeling of his erection rubbing against her hip. She was _curious_ , but she was also a bit of a perfectionist so she felt insecure. What if she did something wrong? Would he _tease_ her? He seemed _quite_ experienced so did he expect the girls he was with to know what they were doing?

She cautiously touched him over his pants and he froze momentarily. “Malfoy,” she started, “I’ve uh, never.” She closed her eyes and felt blood rush involuntarily to her cheeks.

“Alright.” He said softly, swallowing nervously. She exhaled in relief and worked to unzip his trousers. He eventually pulled them down and her breath hitched as she realized just how little clothes they were _both_ wearing. He was only in his boxers, his erection quite evident now. He sidled up next to her, grabbing her hand and moving it under the small bit of fabric.

“Shit.” He said as she gently wrapped her hand around him. He put his hand over hers, guiding her, showing her exactly how he _liked_ it. He was teaching her and like all things, she was a top notch student. She licked her lips as she watched him close his eyes, his breaths growing short. He started thrusting into her hand and she watched in anticipation as he slowly came undone.

It was like nothing she had ever experienced, and she felt the moment uncomfortably intimate. He exhaled, his head falling naturally onto her shoulder and she found her hand moving on its own to the side of his face, brushing some hair out of his eyes.

“It was alright.” He told her, breaking the ice. She laughed, softly at first. Malfoy looked at her incredulously. Suddenly she couldn’t take it anymore and she _snorted_ , the laugh overtaking her entire being. She felt Malfoy’s laugh before she saw it, his face buried into her neck as the total and utter absurdity of the situation dawned on them.

“What the fuck Malfoy?” She asked, breathing heavily. “What the fuck is all of this?” 

“I have no fucking clue.” He shook his head, his face resigned.

* * *

“Can you stop fidgeting?” Hermione grabbed his leg. He raised an eyebrow and she removed her hand at once, placing it on her lap. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I’ve always wanted to join the mile-high club.” He winked at her.

“Shhh!” She threw a hand over his mouth, looking over to their neighbor and relieved to see the woman in the window seat was fast asleep. They were two hours into their transatlantic flight and it seemed Malfoy was a nervous flyer.

“Why?” He asked suddenly.

“Oh, I dunno.” she whispered, “Maybe because I don’t want a random stranger to hear us talk about - you know.”

“If you can’t say it, you shouldn’t be doing it.” He reprimanded.

“Well, I _haven’t_ done it.” She clarified and frowned, realizing she had inadvertently proven his point. “Whatever Malfoy. The point is-”

“Have you forgotten that none of this is real?” Malfoy gave her a patronizing smirk.

She frowned, considering this. He was right, of course. As time went by, and the worlds continued to bleed into one another, she became more and more confident that neither place they were in was _real_ . But regardless, it still _felt_ real. “What makes something real or not real?” She asked.

“Well, we _know_ this is not real.” He drawled, pointing in a circle over his head.

She rolled her eyes, “Are you familiar with Descartes?”

“The philosopher?” He asked. She nodded with an approving smile, “No.”

She once more rolled her eyes, “He questioned reality and how we _know_ what’s real - he posited ‘I think, therefore I am’, so the pure _act_ of thinking makes you _real_. Thus, in a sense, whether or not the world we are in is _real_ , we ourselves are.”

“That’s nice.” Malfoy drawled, “But it doesn’t seem like that should affect how we interact with the world _here_ , given everyone is basically an NPC.”

“What’s an NPC?” Hermione frowned.

“A non playing character, like in a video game. They just do the same thing usually over and over.” He explained.

“But what if it’s not?” She argued.

He rolled his eyes, “What are you on about now?”

She closed her eyes and let out a sharp exhale, “Well, what if where we’ve been _has_ been real? Just _alternative_ realities not unlike our own, where we’ve intermittently taken over the memories of our hosts?” 

“But then it _would_ be real, wouldn’t it?” He pointed out.

She shut her eyes, shaking her head, “I don’t know. It’s just - I guess it’s all _felt_ real to me. A part of me is afraid we’ll wake up and it will all have been just a dream - but another part of me is afraid we _won’t_ wake up.”

“Is this what you do all day? Confront existential crises?” He questioned.

She shrugged, “Sorry. Some of us enjoy using our _brains."_

“Are you calling me stupid?” Malfoy squinted his eyes at her.

“I didn’t say that.” She smiled sweetly back at him.

“It felt like you were implying that since I _don’t_ sit around and wax philosophically I don’t use my brain.”

“Oh,” Hermione continued, patting Malfoy gently on the arm, “I’m _sure_ you use your brain.”

“You know I’m second in our class.” He defended himself.

“That just means you can regurgitate the materials, but it doesn’t necessarily imply _intelligence_.” Hermione squeezed his left cheek and scrunched her nose.

He grabbed her hand, leaning over to whisper in her ear, “I fucking hate you Granger.” 

She cocked her head and looked him right in the eye, “Right back at ya.”

* * *

“Well, this is- eerie.” Malfoy visibly shuddered.

“The brochure indicates this castle was built in the 12th century. Supposedly it’s haunted.” Hermione frowned.

“You’re reading the brochure?” He was incredulous, “It’s just like Hogwarts!”

“Of course.” She frowned, “If we’re going to find Theo then-”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe we should check where he last was? In the Slytherin Common Room?” Malfoy glared.

It _was_ a good point but Hermione was reluctant to admit it, “I _guess_ that’s a _reasonable_ place to start.”

He rolled his eyes and dragged her towards the dungeons. The castle was empty and _clearly_ non-magical. Various placards indicated the purposes of different rooms while red velvet rope hung throughout to keep tourists from specific areas. Hermione frowned, “See, this is why I question if this place is just a dream. Why on earth would our imagination conjure such detail?” She pointed to her brochure.

“I’m assuming it’s taking all of this excruciating _boredom_ from your mind.” He drawled. They reached what in their world would have been the Slytherin common room and the door was unlocked. They stepped over a bit of red rope, relieved not to set off any alarms, and headed towards where the boys dormitories theoretically would be.

“Oh shit.” Hermione let out upon seeing none other than Theo Nott fast asleep on a bed.

“You were the one who suggested he’d be in Scotland.” Malfoy pointed out, squinting his eyes at her.

“Well, yeah, but honestly it was a bit of a hail mary.” She shrugged.

“Oye, mate, wake up.” Malfoy grabbed at Theo’s shoulder, “I KNOW ABOUT YOU AND POTTER.” That seemed to do it and Theo bolted up right, comically flailing his limbs as he reached for his glasses. 

“D-draco? And _Hermione Granger?"_ Theo blinked, his eyes shifting from one to the other.

“Yeah we’re here to -” Malfoy paused and turned to Hermione, “what do we do now?”

Her eyes went wide and she threw her hands up, “I don’t bloody well know!” It was odd she realized, the two states had bled into each other so much that their accents and diction seemed to shift from sentence to sentence.

“Uh, can you tell me what you’re doing here?” Theo asked.

“Well, can you tell us where _here_ is?” Hermione asked.

“I assume in my mind.” Theo explained. 

Hermione and Malfoy looked at one another, “Huh?” 

“I was cursed - I woke up here, all alone. I’ve been here for weeks.” He frowned, gaze shifting between the pair.

“Alright,” Malfoy rubbed his forehead, “do you know who cursed you or why?”

Theo nodded, “It had to do with Harry,” he looked nervous, biting his lip, “I think there must be some kind of ‘keep the Nott line going curse’ which banished me here after it perceived I was a threat to the continuation of the family line.”

Malfoy gave a thoughtful nod, like this explained _everything_ . Hermione wasn’t so easily mollified, “But that doesn’t make sense! By being cursed, you would _still_ not be continuing the line so to speak. That’s a terrible curse!”

“I told you,” Malfoy shrugged, “familial curses are old and weird.”

“I’m also fairly certain it was from a Nott who figured ‘better cursed than gay’.” Theo pointed out.

“Still, it’s barbaric!” Hermione shook her head, “Although, now I'm wondering how we get out of here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Theo frowned.

“No.” Malfoy responded slowly.

_"I’m_ stuck in this room, but if you can move in and out you can theoretically _take the train."_ Nott explained.

“Really?” Hermione’s eyes went wide at this, “I mean, metaphorically, a train taking you from one world to the nex-”

“Yes, sounds good - thanks mate. I’m assuming when we get back to the real world you’ll still be alive?” Malfoy gave his friend a meaningful look. Suddenly Hermione felt a little terrible for _forgetting_ in all of this that in one world Malfoy thought his best friend was dead.

“Well, yeah, but it would be great if you could break the curse.” Theo pointed out.

“Of course!” Hermione smiled, “That must be why we’re here!”

“What?” Malfoy whipped his head at her.

“I’m betting in the _real world_ we were investigating Nott’s curse and had to somehow enter his consciousness to figure out what happened!” She felt elated.

“Yeah, OK.” Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Let’s go.”


	3. Chapter 3

**At Hogwarts (for real)**

“Hermione!” She heard someone calling her name, as though from a distance. She blinked slowly, the cool sterile walls of the hospital wing coming into view.

“Whadff.” She started and frowned at the nonsense that escaped her.

“Hey.” She recognized Ron now, sitting at her bedside, “You’ve been unconscious for a while.”

Suddenly, it was like everything hit her at once, “Oh.” She moaned as her head was suddenly hit with _everything_. 

“What do you remember?” Ron asked with a concerned frown.

“Harry and Theo Nott both fell into a coma. We figured out that Theo had been cursed and somehow Harry was affected - so me and-” She trailed off and turned to see Malfoy in the bed next to hers in a similarly disoriented state. He turned to her and blinked a few times, before returning his attention to a simpering Pansy Parkinson.

“Yeah, Dumbledore helped you guys somehow enter Theo’s consciousness in order to figure out what the curse was. He said it would be real trippy.” Ron looked relieved.

“It was.” Hermione said softly. She could _remember_ it all - but it was like a particularly vivid dream. 

“I heard you both were awake!” She turned to her left to see Dumbledore walk in, a serene smile on his face. 

“Headmaster,” Hermione said, pushing herself onto her elbows, “can you tell me - us, how long have we been unconscious?”

“Hmm? I believe it’s been 72 hours.” He explained.

“That’s all?” Malfoy drawled. Hermione looked at him, his disbelief mirrored her own.

“Time within the mind can behave much differently than that in the physical world.” Dumbledore explained with a twinkle in his eye, “But there is a more urgent matter at hand. Have you uncovered why young Theo was cursed?”

“We have,” Hermione looked at Malfoy, slightly panicked, “perhaps we should tell you alone, sir?”

“Alright,” Dumbledore frowned and waved Ron and Pansy out of the room. Ron gave her a particularly _meaningful_ look which she responded with what she hoped came off as an _I_ ' _ll explain everything later_ look. 

“Theo and Harry were - are in a relationship.” Hermione explained.

“Oh,” Dumbledore frowned, looking genuinely surprised, “how did this result in a curse?”

“It’s a familial curse - it had to do with ‘ensuring the continuation of the Nott line’.” Malfoy explained as only a proper pureblood could.

“Hmm.” Dumbledore nodded, “This is most helpful. I’m optimistic we will be able to cure both Misters Nott and Potter of their ailments in no time. Thank you both.” He gave a short nod and walked off. An awkward silence pervaded the room, as _reality_ , the _real_ reality suddenly befell them.

“I can guarantee you that at the end of this, Gryffindor will somehow gain a hundred points and Slytherin will be down 50.” Malfoy broke the silence.

“Oh, sod off Malfoy.” She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that formed. “How has it only been 72 hours?”

“I know.” He leaned back in the bed, putting his hands behind his head and looking up at the lights, “I thought it was _weeks_ , maybe even _months_.”

“I just - I don’t know what to make of it.” She turned to him, her elbow on the pillow and hand holding her head up, “I mean, I have all these odd memories - I see _now_ clearly how they differentiated from reality but-”

“What was real you mean?” He asked, looking contemplative.

“Yes! Like, was Theo really an informant? How on earth is Luna Lovegood involved?” She questioned.

“I guess I was thinking more about what I’m going to do with all of this useless American Muggle knowledge.” He made the motion then of throwing a football. Hermione immediately burst out laughing. “What?” He asked, eyes narrowed.

“I’m just - I’m thinking about, oh my gosh.” She was bowled over for a moment before she caught herself, “Sorry - just ‘ _I’m too sexy’_.” And that seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back so to speak, and Malfoy too broke down into laughter.

“What’s going on here?” Ron walked up to Hermione, frowning.

“Oh, it’s, nothing.” Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes, reluctantly turning from Malfoy, “Just a memory.” And as she watched Ron look suspiciously at Malfoy, she suddenly remembered that in _this_ world, Malfoy was the enemy. There was no room for friendship, or whatever it was they were. She wasn’t sure but she felt reasonably confident he had the same realization, judging by the odd sadness that colored his features.

* * *

_1 week later_

Hermione was out of the hospital wing 48 hours later, given a clean bill of health and permitted to return to her classes. It was strange at first, the feeling of returning to reality, but almost like the sensation of coming home from a holiday, she adapted quickly. 

She didn’t necessarily _avoid_ Malfoy so much as ensure her gaze never quite fell on him. As time passed, she still remembered the events of their jaunt through Theo’s mind but the specifics started to fade - suddenly she could no longer remember what the cafeteria looked like or who the Calculus teacher was. She wondered if at some point it would all disappear - and if so, what did that mean? 

She considered her time with Malfoy to have _some_ meaning - she had her first _orgasm_ for goodness sakes. If she forgot, would it be like it never happened? She unconsciously looked over at where he sat in Ancient Runes, looking diligently down at his notes. She felt like, in their time together she had gotten to know him and they had developed some sort of friendship. Of course, it was based on mutual frustration and sexual tension but it was something nonetheless.

But was her experience with Malfoy truly him? She recalled from the Muggle World that he had never really shown much animosity towards her, just throwing her the occasional jab and behaving as though she didn’t exist. The entire situation was - disconcerting. Then, of course, there was the question of what _he_ was thinking now. Was he disgusted by his behavior, or perhaps his thoughts were aligned with her own? Granted, since they had returned he had not stooped to his previous levels of animosity but perhaps that was simply from embarrassment?

She was relieved when class ended, knowing she would have lunch and a free afternoon period blissfully Malfoy free. She was elated upon reaching the Great Hall to find Harry had finally been released from the hospital wing. He sat amongst a sea of well wishers, a somewhat cautious grin splayed on his face.

“Harry!” She exclaimed, pushing a few fourth years out of the way to take the seat across from him. She gave the other Gryffindors a pointed glare and they eventually moved back to their seats, giving Harry some space.

“Thanks Mione.” He smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“What’s going on?” She frowned.

“Hmm?” He blinked and swallowed, “Sorry, I keep forgetting you know.” Just the day before they had quite the chat about his relationship with Theo in the hospital wing.

“We don’t have to talk about it.” She shrugged.

“It’s just,” he whispered, “he’s having second thoughts about me - _us_.”

“Oh no.” Hermione’s face fell, “I’m sorry Harry. Because of the curse?”

Harry shrugged, “Honestly, I’m not sure. It seems like something is weighing on him. Amelia Bones came to visit him for some reason in the hospital wing yesterday - it seemed to _really_ shake him.”

Hermione became suddenly alert, “Amelia Bones? The representative of the Bones seat on the Wizengamot?”

Harry nodded, “I believe so.”

“Harry,” Hermione frowned, “Does Luna know about you and Theo?”

Harry looked surprised, “Yes - how did you know that?”

Hermione sat back to consider this. Her initial theory was that Theo did not want to put Harry in the line of fire since he was going to be presumably testifying against the Death Eaters. Though, that didn’t _really_ make sense, given that Harry was already number 1 on Voldemort’s list. Perhaps he just didn’t want Harry to know what he was planning?

She realized, with an odd combination of reluctance and excitement, she should probably run this by Malfoy. He could talk to Theo - figure out why he was pushing away Harry. After everything they dealt with, with everything _Harry_ had been through, it just didn’t seem right. And, perhaps, a part of her was happy to finally have a good reason to talk with Malfoy. But it was for science. And Harry. That was all. 

She was fairly certain that she and Malfoy shared a free period so she wandered out to the grounds where it seemed all the 6th years were enjoying the warm spring day. She found him eventually, sunbathing by the Black Lake, surprisingly alone.

“Granger.” She jumped. He was still lying on the grass, his hands behind his head and eyes closed.

“How did you know it was me?” She cocked her head, standing over him so that she was partially blocking his sun.

“I could hear your mind pacing. It was deafening.” He squinted at her.

She rolled her eyes but proceeded to lie down next to him, “So,” she started awkwardly.

“So.” He responded unhelpfully.

There was a lot she wanted to say to him but it was just - too awkward. So instead she said, “Harry mentioned Theo has second thoughts about them.”

“Hmm.” Malfoy mumbled.

“Really? ‘Hmm?’ They loved each other so much that it set off a familial curse in Theo! And your response is hmm?” She faced him, her voice incredulous.

“What do you want me to say?” He drawled, turning his head in response.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe that you’re so surprised or Theo had a really good explanation or that you’d talk to-”

“Really Granger? You think Theo and I just sit around painting our nails and gossiping about boys? He got himself into this mess he can get himself out of it.” He explained, raising his eyebrows in question.

“You’re the worst.” She told him, “But that’s not all.”

“Oh do tell.”

“Fuck you,” she cursed, “but apparently Harry saw Amelia Bones visit Theo yesterday in the hospital wing. _And_ it seems Luna _was_ aware of their relationship.”

“So what we saw - there,” he paused, “was more or less true?”

“Yes - I’m assuming he _is_ some kind of Death Eater informant.” She explained.

“And you’re telling _me?_ ” He was incredulous. 

“Huh,” she mumbled, suddenly realizing that at some point she stopped seeing Malfoy as a Death Eater, or at the very least Death Eater adjacent. In a way, she saw them both as two people stuck in the middle of something that was a bit beyond them. “I guess I stopped thinking of you as a Death Eater sympathizer at some point.” She frowned.

Why hadn't she just said something to Harry? Why on earth was her first reaction to talk to _Malfoy_ of all people? His _father_ was a Death Eater for goodness sakes! He had _all_ the incentive in the world to stop Theo. “Shit.” She closed her eyes, “I guess I’m still struggling to remember what’s real.”

She knew she should be more panicked, but for some reason she felt oddly peaceful lying there. She wasn’t sure if perhaps she simply had faith in Malfoy or maybe she had a serious case of denial.

“Honestly,” he said finally, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen, “the idea that he can take the Death Eaters down would be a relief.”

She blinked, letting out a long breath, “Really?”

“Hmm,” he nodded, “I know what’s expected of me when I graduate. And to be honest - I’d rather not.”

“What about your father?” She frowned.

Malfoy simply shrugged, “He made his decisions and he’ll be judged for them.”

“That’s quite an evolved view point.” Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’ve found myself in a bit of a metaphysical crisis of late,” he smirked at her, “it’s made me question things. Particularly the experience of living as a Muggle.”

She hadn’t even considered that. While the experience for her had been somewhat surreal she hadn’t stopped to imagine how _wizard_ Draco Malfoy, who had previously viewed Muggles with only disdain, would feel about having memories and experiences _as a Muggle_. 

He continued, “It’s not nearly as simple as I was made to believe. And while I'm hopeful that my father can learn the error of his ways, I’m not quite willing to sacrifice anyone just for his benefit.” He looked back to the sky then.

“So, is that what you’ve been doing out here, waxing philosophically?” She smiled.

“Hmm, see, this bird told me if you’re not consistently questioning the nature of your existence you're not intelligent.” He teased.

“She sounds utterly delightful.” Hermione nodded approvingly.

“She’s alright when she’s not being a swot.” He remarked.

She punched him in the arm. “Ow,” he grabbed his bicep in mock horror, before giving her a predatory grin.

“No, whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.” She sat up, getting ready to run when Malfoy grabbed her by the waist and dragged her back to the ground and started - tickling her. “Mother fucker.” She laughed and screamed in terror.

“Stop it.” She smacked at his arms and he stopped, but left his hands on her hips. She realized they were only inches apart and she could feel his quickening breaths on her neck. He looked her in the eye, like he was looking for something. “Do you remember it all?” She asked softly.

He frowned, “I think so.”

“Do you think there would be value in checking, you know, for science?” She licked her lips and felt blood rush to her cheeks.

“Well,” he kissed her, “if it’s for science.” he mumbled into her mouth.

She popped up on her knees, suddenly _anxious_ and responded immediately. It was just like she remembered, and that somehow made all of their experiences feel _more_ real. She felt his tongue brush lightly against her bottom lip and she moaned, opening her mouth further for him. He pulled her onto his lap, tucking her into him almost protectively.

It was odd - in how _not_ odd Hermione found it. She relished the feeling of his hands grazing her lower back and willingly pushed her hips into his. She smirked at the moan he gave in response, “Is this what you want?” She taunted him, her hand boldly covering his growing erection.

“Fuck you.” He smiled into her, moving her legs so they wrapped around his torso. 

“Oof.” She moaned and pulled her head back. They had never really done anything like this before and she found it exhilarating. He began nibbling innocently at her neck, quite easily finding the spot beneath her ear that had elicited such a _distinct_ response before. In the back of her mind, a part of her wondered how that could be - how they could have gotten to know each other _so well_ in a place that wasn’t real.

“Stop it.” He grabbed her bottom then, eliciting another moan as she felt him against her core. “I can hear you thinking again.”

“It’s really creepy when you do that. Oh.” She closed her eyes and ground against him. That now familiar tension was beginning to build and she tucked her face into his neck. Until quite suddenly, he froze.

“So,” he stilled her and whispered, “we may not want to do this here.” She blinked, and suddenly she remembered that this _was_ the real world and that what they did, and perhaps more importantly _where they did it_ and _who saw_ mattered. It was odd though, she had mentally separated Malfoy out from the real world so much she had momentarily forgotten.

“Do you think anyone saw?” She whispered.

He shook his head, “I assume if they had there would have been a lot of screaming.”

She reluctantly pulled herself off of him, feeling entirely unsatisfied. An awkward tension grew between them, as they were suddenly reminded of who they were and of the sheer implausibility of it all. “I guess I’ll be going.” She stood up.

“I’ll uh - talk to Theo.” Malfoy frowned, almost as if he was surprised he said it.

“Alright.” And she left, feeling more confused than before.

* * *

“You know,” Harry approached her in the Gryffindor Common Room a few days later, “I still haven't asked what _you_ went through.”

“Hmm?” Hermione blinked. Ron assumed she had gone through something like an acid trip and she had made no effort to correct him.

“You know, when you and Malfoy went into Theo’s head to figure out the curse.” Harry unhelpfully elaborated.

“Hmm?”

“Hermione.” He frowned, “What happened?”

And just like that, she spilled _everything_ , from the confusion of the dream world, to their investigation, and all the - _indiscretions_ so to speak. It felt oddly liberating to get the entire experience off her chest.

“You and Malfoy?” His face was contorted like he was trying really hard not to look horrified but more or less failing.

“I mean, not really,” she bit the inside of her cheek, “it was quite the bonding experience, moving from dream to dream and never really quite knowing what was going on. I guess I began to rely on him.”

“But it was only 3 days, right?”

“Not quite,” Hermione paused, “Dumbledore mentioned that time moves differently in our dreams. Think about what time is - it’s basically the way we as humans perceive a certain set of motions. It’s a construct - so in the dream state, we’re not quite susceptible to it in the same way. For us, it felt more like a month really.” 

“So what now?” Harry asked.

“Honestly?” She bit her lower lip, “It’s odd - it’s like, I feel both incredibly connected to him but also unsure if I really know him. And I guess I have this underlying fear that it’ll all fade and he’ll return back to the same dick he was before. Well,” she considered, “he’s still a dick - just _less_ of a dick to me now really.”

Harry laughed, “I’m not a big fan of Malfoy.”

“Wow, really Harry? I had no idea.” Hermione deadpanned.

“I’m not done,” he reprimanded. Hermione made a zipping motion over her mouth and Harry continued, “ _But_ it sounds like you care for him,” Hermione made a very mature puking motion, “I can hear what you’re saying between the lines - you’re _connected_ , blah blah blah. I think you like him.”

“But that’s literally impossible.” She pointed out, “He’s the worst.”

Harry laughed, “Seriously?”

“I mean, he is.” She blinked.

“I give up.”

“Alright - then what’s going on with you and Theo?” Hermione asked.

Harry narrowed his eyes and swallowed, “Honestly? I’m not sure - we talked yesterday and he mentioned he _doesn’t_ want to give up on us but he needs some _time_ to get things in order.”

“Huh,” Hermione tilted her head, considering. “Did he tell you why?”

Harry shrugged, “Something about wanting to make sure he didn’t put me in a bad spot.” She considered telling Harry what she knew but figured in this instance she’d protect Theo’s privacy - after all, she only knew because she had been _inside his head_. Though at this point she was fairly sure they were in some sort of amalgamation of her, Malfoy’s and Theo’s minds.

“Well, that’s good right?” She smiled.

“Hmm.” He seemed unsure.

“Have you told anyone?” She didn’t explicitly say it but the implication was _did you tell Ron?_

“I, uh, I came out.” He looked her in the eye, “I told him I was gay. Apparently he doesn’t care.”

Hermione broke down in laughter, “Of course he doesn’t. Typical Ron.”

“Right? I was expecting some sort of reaction but he was just like ‘good for you pass the pudding’” Harry explained with a broad grin.

“Are you - glad? That it’s not so much of a secret anymore?” She asked seriously.

“It’s harder.” He explained, “The beauty of everything being a secret is that there were no expectations. We just were. But - it also didn’t quite feel real.”

Hermione snorted, “So you’re having your own metaphysical crisis then?”

“Something like that.” He smirked and they sat side by side, oddly peaceful in the uncertainty.

* * *

Hermione spent the next two weeks both contemplating her personal predicament and watching Theo Nott, who she still had yet to have a conversation with (unless you counted their odd meeting in his mind). She saw him grow more and more nervous, the circles under his eyes growing darker.

She was pulled into an enclave after class one day, “Stop.” Malfoy told her.

“What?” She rolled her eyes. It was quite the feat - they could go weeks without talking and yet somehow pick up as if no time had passed.

“Stop staring at Theo.” He looked oddly serious.

“I just - what’s happening?” She begged, “You know I can’t stand not knowing things. I just-”

“How did I _deal_ with you? You’re insufferable,” he dramatically started massaging his sinuses, “It’s going to happen soon, OK?”

“Fuck you Malfoy.” Hermione gave him the two finger salute and left.

She didn’t have to wait long, the next day the evening prophet came in droves, the front story revealing Voldemort and his inner circle had been successfully apprehended. She peered towards the Slytherin table and noticed both Nott and Malfoy missing. 

“Did you know?” Harry asked her suddenly, causing her to do a little jump.

“I,” she swallowed, “suspected. When we were in his mind there were variations of this.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Harry wasn’t angry - that would be easy. He was _disappointed_ and she suddenly felt like she had smacked around a puppy.

“It wasn’t really my place to say something. In a similar way I didn’t tell others the things about _you_ that I learned.” She explained.

“Hmm.” He responded as if he was OK but continued glaring at her. 

“I’m sorry.” She pouted. 

“Oh fine.” He rolled his eyes and smiled.

“So do you think things will be OK now?” Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged, “I guess we’ll see.”

And that was that. She watched the room with an odd feeling of detachment. The Gryffindors were bursting in excitement, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws not far behind. The Slytherins were a bit shiftier, many of their family or friends being listed in the round up. It was only in that moment she realized - nothing had really felt _right_ since she returned.

She questioned for a moment if perhaps she was _still_ not in the real world but deduced there was a _far simpler_ explanation: She missed Draco Malfoy.

It was odd - she had for so long thought of herself as _stuck_ with him. But at some point she started counting on him, _trusting_ him. She realized she missed their banter, even his absolutely awful _flirting_. Without him, she felt somewhat - unchallenged, uninspired. It was a peculiar epiphany and left a strange taste in her mouth.

Should she - pursue him? Ignoring the obvious question of whether he would even be _interested_ in her, was it worth it? She would potentially alienate her friends, create a stir. She was oddly nostalgic for the Muggle Dream World, where it would have been so easy for them to be together. Just a bit of whispering in the beginning and then people would have gotten over it.

So would she be OK with some sort of secret dalliance? Would that be enough for her? While she thinks perhaps it _would_ be, she also acknowledged that she didn’t necessarily _want_ to hide. She wanted to be able to kiss him by the black lake, though granted they should probably _limit_ their black lake adjacent activities to _kissing_. She wanted to be able to tell her friends when Malfoy did something particularly stupid or annoying which she was utterly confident he would do in any scenario. 

She looked back around and another thought dawned on her - maybe they were exactly what was needed. She watched as the Slytherins sat like animals in the zoo and the other three houses gawked. There was such division - what they needed was to see they were not all that different. Though, she didn’t exactly like that pressure. Perhaps she could convince Harry that he and Theo could become a symbol of inter house unity instead…

Her thoughts were interrupted by a letter that dropped unceremoniously on her head. “Ow.” She frowned, grabbing the envelope with a small piece of paper that said:

_Room of requirement - now_

_DM_

She narrowed her eyes at the paper - a part of her so annoyed at the lack of question mark that she momentarily considered just ignoring the summons. But then she realized that would be ridiculous. She needed to speak with him and at least in the Room of Requirement they’d have an element of privacy.

“Gotta go.” She gave what she hoped was a meaningful look to Harry and headed out. 

The Room of Requirement looked strangely like her home in Muggle America when she walked in. Malfoy looked uncharacteristically nervous, twitching on the couch.

“Hi.” She started with an awkward wave.

He licked his lips and stood up, reaching her in a few steps. He opened his mouth a few times but no words came out. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” She asked finally.

He rolled his eyes, “I’ve missed you, OK?” The words were sweet, but his tone suggested utter and complete annoyance.

“Aw, you have?” She teased him, but couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

“Yes,” he looked up, as if praying to somehow get out of this conversation that he himself had initiated, “I just - everyone else is completely useless. You’re the only one who-”

“Calls you out on your bullshit?”

“Well, no, I don’t have any bullshit of course,” he scoffed, “I just meant - well, challenges me.”

“Forces you to wax philosophically to prove your intellectual prowess?” She smiled somewhat deviously.

“See? You’re entirely frustrating.” He grabbed at his hair.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” She rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you have something to say?” He asked. And she saw it then, _fear_. He was putting himself out there, granted most of what he said could be taken as mildly offensive but coming from Draco Malfoy this was practically a declaration of love.

“It’s possible I’ve grown to want to be within your vicinity from time to time.” She explained rationally.

“What the fuck does that mean?” 

“Do you need me to find you a dictionary Malfoy?” She blinked up at him again, smirking, “It just means I’ve come to realize that you’re not the _worst_ to have around.”

He stared at her, almost like by simply boring his eyes into hers the answer to some riddle would reveal itself. “I like you OK?” He let out, squeezing his eyes shut as soon as he said it.

She couldn’t help it, she _really_ tried not to but she laughed. “Are you seriously laughing at me?” He was incredulous.

“I’m sorry Malfoy - it’s just, you looked like you were in such pain.”

“Well, you made this quite difficult.” He pointed out.

“That’s what we do isn’t it? Make each other's lives difficult. Makes things interesting I think.” She walked towards him, so they were only about a half foot apart.

“So?”

“Oh yeah, I guess I like you too.” She was going for nonchalant but a slight smile betrayed her.

“This is going to be difficult.” 

“Is that a promise or a warning?” She asked.

He just shook his head and closed the remaining inches between them and kissed her. The kiss - it was like _relief_ , to know she wasn’t completely crazy for feeling the way she did and that he too had been suffering. He walked them back to the couch, grabbing Hermione’s hands and pulling her down so that her knees straddled him on the loveseat.

She realized now how _inhibited_ he had been during their brief hook up by the Black Lake. He grabbed her ass immediately, pulling her down on him and earning a soft moan. She deepened the kiss, her tongue dancing playfully with his own as she pressed her fingers up his sides. It was like no matter how close they were, however much she pressed her chest against his, there was too much space. 

She pulled up his shirt, yanking it roughly over his head and gave him an appreciative once over. “You’ve seen it before Granger.”

“Well, to be fair, it wasn’t quite _real_.” She argued while running her hands over his back, placing light kisses along his neck.

“Aren’t _you_ the one who pointed out ‘I think therefore I am’?” He argued all while his fingers began to tease at the waist of her jeans.

“The point,” Hermione paused to kiss him, bucking her hips against his, “is that while _we_ may have been real, as thinking beings, the world around us may not have been. For all I know, the you I saw.” She paused again as he pulled her shirt over her head and proceeded to give his undivided attention to her breasts, “Is that you, oh fuck Malfoy.”

With his mouth now focused on her chest, his fingers returned to taunting her waist. It was something like agony, too much and too little attention at the same time. She continued to grind against him, demanding more friction and had half a mind to just shove his hand down her underwear. “You were saying?” He smirked.

“You could have been, oh god,” he chose that exact moment to circle her clit over her underwear. She knew he was doing this purposefully, probably as some perceived punishment for her daring to _think_ while they - did _things_. She was determined to win though, “You could have been a construct of my imagination.”

She realized she should have said _Theo’s_ imagination the second the words came out. He continued his ministrations but smirked at her, “Hmmm, I guess you _have_ imagined me.”

“Fuck you Malfoy.” She licked her lips and kissed him, grinding herself against his finger which was making lazy circles against her core. It was pure agony, she wanted _more_ and now. “Please.” She asked finally, conceding defeat in whatever game they were playing. 

He pulled her jeans and underwear off at once, leaving her in just a bra and straddling a mostly clothed Malfoy. It was surreal and she was sure at a later time she would remark on how self-conscious she should have been but all she could think was she wanted him to touch her. 

His hands returned, their movements still painfully slow, like he was planning to tease her for hours. She started working him from over his pants, but the position on the couch didn’t allow much ease of access. “Floor.” She suggested brilliantly and he nodded, following her onto the carpet.

He lay her down, lying on his left side with his right hand once more circling that sensitive spot of hers. She licked her lips and stared at him, willing him to kiss her or do _something._ He simply smirked at her, watching her as she squirmed, pushing herself against his fingers. She placed her hand at the waistband of his pants and his smirk faded immediately.

He sidled up to her so his face was inches from her own, his thumb on her clit increasing in pressure and he lazily placed a finger in her. _Finally_ she thought with a smile in victory. She pushed his pants down as much as she was able and grabbed his length, stroking him like he had shown her in that dream. 

She felt a certain amount of - well, _pride_ at the way his eyes instinctually closed and his mouth opened just slightly. He surprised her then, moving his fingers faster, pushing himself closer. She struggled to focus on her hand as he rubbed her in _just_ the right way. “Holy fuck.” She let out as she finally found her release.

Of course, he smirked at her, so she rolled onto her side to face him, returning the gesture and stroking him faster. His smirk quickly faded and she kissed him, never pausing her hand motions but feeling the inherent need to be ever _closer_ to him. It didn’t take long for him to finally orgasm and she could feel his own stream of obscenities fill her mouth.

They lay side by side, inches from one another. Malfoy was brushing his hand through her hair, which had somehow in their melee come out of its elastic. His face was oddly pensive, “Are you thinking serious things?” Hermione asked worriedly.

“I’m just worried - is there a bird living in this? Do we need to check?” He appeared to be doing just that, squinting as if he saw something in her hair.

She smacked his hand, unable to prevent the grin on her face, “Shit Malfoy, if one of us needs to be concerned with living things in their hair it’s the one with all the product. I’m afraid to touch it - will it all fall out?”

“Granger,” he said condescendingly, “this is 100% natural.”

“Of course it is, just as natural as Lavender Brown’s nose.” She winked at him.

“Wait what?” He looked shocked.

“Oh, now that the funny business is done is it time to gossip and talk about our feelings?” She placed her hands under her chin, a glint in her eye.

“Ugh.” He shook his head, horrified.

* * *

_Epilogue - The next day_

“What did you want to talk about?” Ron took a seat next to her in the Gryffindor common room.

“First, why don’t you have some Treacle tart?” Hermione offered.

Ron smiled, “Thanks Hermione!” and started nibbling at the tart.

“So, now that you’re happily eating, there’s something I want to tell you.” She started. He nodded, encouraging her to continue, “So I kind of, well not lied directly so much as, _lied_ by omission regarding the nature of the whole going into Theo’s mind thing with Malfoy.” 

Ron cocked his head, looking distinctly confused, but continued eating the tart. “Alright,” she continued, “so when Malfoy and I were in, er, Theo’s mind, it was more like a month rather than three days. We grew quite close oddly enough. We’re now, kind of, together, like romantically.”

Ron blinked, his mouth open, half chewed tart dangling precariously on the tip of his tongue. He shut his mouth and dramatically swallowed. He blinked a couple of times and pinched his arm. “Ow.” He frowned.

“Did you just pinch yourself?” Hermione asked, incredulous.

“Well, yeah, you just told me you were with Malfoy _romantically_. I was trying to wake up.” Ron pointed out.

“Well, you’re not asleep, it’s true.” She frowned.

“But - it’s _Malfoy._ ” His point _did_ have a certain amount of validity, she had to admit.

“I know.” She sighed, “But he’s, well, intelligent. And witty. And he challenges me. I dunno, I can’t explain it.”

“But -” Ron frowned, “you call him Malfoy.”

“Yes,” Hermione said slowly, “because that’s his name.”

“No, his name is _Draco_.” Ron argued.

“But he’s Malfoy.” Hermione pointed out intelligibly.

“Yeah, but like, if you’re seeing him, shouldn’t you call him by his first name?”

“I don’t really get the connection.” She frowned, trying to understand it.

“I give up.” Ron shook his head, “Does Harry know?”

“Yeah? Kind of?” Hermione cocked her head to the side, trying to recall how up to date Harry was on her love life.

“Did you guys make a Slytherin love pact or something?” Ron narrowed his eyes, “I mean, he just told me this morning apparently he’s been seeing _Theo Nott_ for over a year.”

“Oh - is that why you thought you were dreaming?” Hermione clarified.

“Well, yeah. It’s just - odd.” Ron shrugged, “For the record, I don’t plan to start dating a Slytherin. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“It’s fine.” Hermione smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little jaunt into Cartesian philosophy! I'd love to hear any thoughts/feedback...
> 
> While the whole "is this a dream or real?" concept has been used many times through pop culture, this particular story was inspired by the episode of Stargate SG-1 called The Changeling - particularly a line Dr. Daniel Jackson said to Teal'c: "Think about it. If you can't distinguish between them, if the one seems equally as real as the other, maybe you don't belong in either one."
> 
> I'm also on Tumblr @canttouchthis87 but to be honest have no idea what I'm doing there...


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